Worlds Apart
by AvelineArcher
Summary: [When the time is ripe, true soul mates find one another even if they are worlds apart – Yehuda Berg.] Genevieve Renard longs to do something great with her life, serving as a nurse in Europe seemed a good idea until she fell in love with a Brooklyn solider and had a fateful run in with HYDRA that would forever change her life.
1. Foreboding Sense Of Impending Happiness

**DISCLAIMER: Marvel stuff belongs to Marvel. This is fiction.**

 **A/N:** A rewrite of an old story once on here that I began writing back in 2012. If you're interested my face claim for Genevieve Renard is Alicia Vikander.

Titles are inspired by HIM songs.

* * *

 **When the time is ripe, true soul mates find one another even if they are worlds apart – Yehuda Berg**

* * *

 **WORLDS APART: Part 1**

 **CHAPTER ONE –** **The Foreboding Sense of Impending Happiness**

 _[September 1943 – Italy]_

Words evaded me. The barrenness in my mind drove against my patience as I longed to express the world surrounding me in a favorable light, vainly hoping it would save my mother from obvious worry. While the European scenery transformed often into a picture-perfect postcard, the brutal scenes of war didn't. Hemorrhaging wounds and dismembered body parts plagued me daily, and the haunting moans of approaching death echoed in my head when I attempted to grab a couple of hours of sleep.

Nevertheless, a blank page stared mockingly up at me, the odd drip of rain seeping upon the surface and determining the letter would remain unwritten.

Holding in a weary sigh, I grabbed a jacket as I left the nurses tent, hastily pulling it over the olive drab I'd been wearing for a month. Tramping through the trodden grass, mud splashed onto the dry stuff from the day before. Most of the nurses avoided doing an inventory, but with time on my hands I accepted the brain numbing duty.

We'd recently moved to a new site, several boxes of medical supplies sat behind a curtain to create a makeshift store room. With a glance at my watch, the hands seemingly moved at a snail's pace. There were worse places to be – I could've been digging new latrines.

"Genevieve! There you are." Bette burst into the tent, her rosy cheeks puffed like balloons as she skidded to a halt. "We received a telegram," my best friend lowered her voice to a whisper. "It's from Agent Carter."

"Probably our training schedule." I snatched the telegram to read the short two sentences.

"I don't know if I'm cut out for this, Genevieve."

I glanced up at the petite blonde, battle weary and a long way from the society life she was accustom too. In the harsh light of the cold morning I felt guilt for allowing her to volunteer alongside me when nurses were required at the front line.

"I know Agent Carter is your friend from some training exercise you never talk about, and you think going on some suicide mission will prove your worth…but I don't know if I'm cut out for this." She threw her hands up, dramatically sighing when she took to pacing before me. "I'm not a soldier or a spy! I should be attending galas and nightclub openings!"

"It's okay, Bette," I carefully tore up the telegram, placing the pieces in my pocket.

"Okay?"

"You came here because of me, I know that, and I love you for it." I drew her into a hug. "You can serve out your time here, and then return home to David. But I'm staying here until the job is done."

Her big blue eyes framed with enviable thick lashes studied me as we parted, loose blonde curls falling from their pinned hold. "Are you sure, Genevieve?"

"This is where I'm meant to be."

"You're braver than I am."

"It's not about being brave," I replied opening a box of mixed supplies. "I just want to do my part anyway I can."

"Well I think you're brave anyway. I gotta go, I stupidly agreed to help Doris mend some of the old blankets."

I smiled, "Good luck with that, you do know she can't sew, right?"

"Great," Bette groaned on her way out.

I couldn't stop myself from laughing, turning towards the shelves.

"There you are, Gin. You hiding back here?"

The male tone laced with an obvious New York accent and genuine happiness brought a smile to my lips.

"Unlike some, Sergeant Barnes, I have work to do."

The handsome soldier from the 107th had the confident smile of a man used to getting his way with women. He held out a couple of envelopes, unable to fight the charming smile that appeared to draw many to his friendship.

"I got some of your mail by accident."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, I saw one was from some Louie guy, figured it was your boyfriend."

"He's my brother," I carefully tucked the envelopes into my pocket. "I'm sure I've mentioned he's serving with the Royal Airforce in England."

"Yeah, just checking." He smiled catching my arm and pulling me against his body.

"Barnes…"

His nose brushed against mine, banishing the warning lingering on my tongue. "You didn't mind the other night," his husky tone attempted to seduce me.

"Dugan's bourbon made me bold."

I blushed recalling the other night when Tim Dugan's last American bourbon bottle made its way around the group. I didn't care for the liquor but partook to unwind after a long day. Things with Barnes started innocently enough with a friendly chat, laughter and then flirty glances turned into hand holding, and a sneaky escape to the edge of camp to make out.

"You tellin' me that terrible bourbon made you kiss me?"

I wrapped my arms around his neck to stop him from pulling away. "Of course not, that's not what I meant…you know we're not meant to be fraternizing."

"Fraternizing? We ain't doing anything wrong."

"I'd like to hear you explain that to matron."

He silenced my doubts with a kiss, lifting my spirits and intensifying a feeling I couldn't recall ever experiencing before. We parted for a breath, his lips kissing my nose before he released me from his inviting grasp.

"I better let you get back to your duties. I'll see you at dinner."

His kiss lingered long after he moved away, departing the tent whistling a tune as I resumed my task with a newfound cheerfulness.

-x-

"You're getting rather good, Genevieve. I'm impressed at how far you've come in a short period."

I fought down a burst of pride longing to stretch my lips into a delighted grin. I glanced at Peggy Carter, an SSR agent I befriended during my time working on Project Rebirth while reloading the Walther PPK she'd given me. It almost felt like second nature to have the weapon in my grasp, a mere extension of the arm I could now use to take down anyone that stood in my way.

"It's all because of your teachings, Peg. If you hadn't vouched for me, I'd still be stateside twiddling my thumbs."

"I accept your flattery, even though I think you're a natural," she smiled. "But I've heard your charms have a certain Sergeant distracted from his duties."

Facing the holey targets Peggy erected, I curtly shook my head hoping to display an indifference to her remark. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"It's a dangerous time to fall in love."

My shoulders tensed at her words, thinking of the way Bucky's smile weakened my knees, and the comfortable ease I felt when we conversed. I'd worked hard not to dwell on defining my relationship with Bucky, not willing to accept maybe the persuasive soldier was romantically interested in me.

"Who said anything about falling in love? He's a welcomed distraction." I faced my friend, dressed in an army green jumpsuit and black boots. Her brown hair, pretty face, and nails all impeccably styled, seemingly out of place in our current setting. She could've been a Hollywood starlet rather than a lethal agent.

"A distraction is only useful to a certain point. Can you so easily forget about him when the time comes to leave for the mission?"

"He doesn't cloud my judgement. I know what's expected of me. After all, I volunteered for this assignment."

It was bitter lie to be spoken aloud, and Peggy didn't even bother to act like she believed me. We both unwittingly pined for a life we fought so hard to pretend we didn't want. Our goal of making a difference in the world could potentially hurt our chances of true happiness with the men constantly in our thoughts.

"Well, I think that's enough for today, I'm sure you've got plenty of work waiting back at camp for you."

"No shortage I don't doubt," I muttered grabbing my jacket to carefully hide the gun in a pocket. "What does the Colonel think about these little side trips?"

"He's not convinced –"

"Because I'm a woman?"

"Because you're not a soldier." She spoke over her shoulder, plucking what was left of the targets off the tree trunks to hide beneath an overgrown bush. "I have no doubt you'll be up to the task, whatever it may be."

I merely forced a smile, attempting to find a shred of hope in her words.

"Until next week, be careful, Genevieve."

Despite knowing she meant that in one obvious way, I curtly nodded. "You too, Peg."


	2. Don't Close Your Heart

**CHAPTER TWO – Don't Close Your Heart**

After a long shift, sheer adrenaline facilitated the walk back to the nurses' tent, dry hands fumbling to undo the dirty, blood-spattered smock. Gratefully the casualties were minimal, and no soldiers were taken by enemy forces. A small victory but a victory nevertheless in my eyes. I dumped the smock into a bucket of cold water, reaching for the bar of soap only to notice Bette standing beside my cot, a fierce look upon her face and her arms folded across her chest.

"You've been holding out on me, Genevieve."

"Look," I yawned. "I've been on my feet since five am, can we have this chat after I've slept?"

"No, we can't." She pointed accusingly at my cot where a bunch of wild flowers sat.

Ignoring the ache in my feet, I left the cleaning of my smock and walked over, reaching for the flowers so their scent tickled my senses.

"They are from one Bucky Barnes." She waved the note at me, which I snatched from her grasp.

"There's no need to sound so jealous, we're only friends." I flicked the note open and smiled at his fond words.

"Well? Are you going to explain what he means?"

"You read it?" Bette nodded, and I sighed heavily. "He enjoys our time together, what more do you need to know? He's a good man –"

"So is Joe!"

"Joe? Joe Hartford? What does he have to do with anything?" I asked pointedly, placing the flowers in the cup of water sitting on the stool beside my cot.

"Remember we talked about making a good match, and Joe being the perfect match for you!"

"Why are you so obsessed about my love life? You don't even like Joe! You said I could do better than some mechanic. What does it matter to you who I choose to spend my time with?" I turned towards her, pulling my hair loose from its tight bun hold.

"Joe can provide –"

"Money doesn't mean anything to me, I am more than capable of providing for myself! Joe and I went on a couple of dates, there was no talk of a future together. Besides, Bucky listens to me, he is truly interested in what I have to say, he's funny and charming –"

"Charming with all the nurses! You aren't the only girl falling for him, Genevieve! He gets fresh with all of us to see who he can get back to his tent first!"

"That's a hateful thing to say, Bette!" I snapped angrily at her. "I won't be made to feel bad because I find ways to be happy. When I'm with Bucky I don't have to think about the blood caked under my fingernails, or that I can sometimes barely sleep at night because I still hear Corporal Wilson's screams in my head – a boy of eighteen, dying painfully from a stomach wound because we'd run out of morphine!"

"Well somehow, I doubt you were on his mind this afternoon when he had his arm around Lorraine, whispering into her ear, making her laugh!" Bette bit back spitefully.

I averted my gaze when tears formed at the corners of my eyes. There were so many sights I'd never be able to forget; horrors no one should have lived to witness. And the last thing I needed was Bette dumping her drama on top of my already weighed down shoulders. I turned away without another word and stormed out of the tent, banging into another body, dressed in military uniform.

"Ooh, I'm so-so sorry, sir –" I looked up from spluttering my reply to find Bucky standing before me.

His delight instantly faded to be replaced with concern. He instinctively raised a hand to my face, frowning as his thumb brushed through the wet trail coating my cheeks. "What's happened? Is it your brother?"

"It's nothing, I'm fine," I mumbled.

"Doesn't look like nothing."

"Sometimes a girl just needs to cry…a natural stress relief." I hastily stepped away from him, wiping my heated face with my hands.

"And it's got nothing to do with your friend giving us the evil eye from your tent right now?"

My head snapped up, glancing in the direction of the nurses' tent where Bette stood, her hostile glare as hard as daggers before she turned on her heel, disappearing back inside the tent.

"Sure, you don't wanna talk about it, sweetheart?"

"No."

"Okay, why don't you come back to my tent then?" His bold suggestion slapped me with shock. "The boys will be there, and a couple of other nurses. We found an old barn the other day, stored with heaps of stuff, including bottles of wine. I don't know how good French stuff is, but it's gotta be better than the stale coffee we've got."

I started shaking my head, believing a walk around the camp would calm me down enough. Bucky obviously ignoring my mood, threw his arm around my shoulders, forcing me to stumble against his side.

"C'mon, Gin, it'll cheer you up to cut loose."

I ignored the flush of heat bursting in my cheeks when he smiled down at me, Bette's hateful words stabbing through whatever happiness bloomed in Bucky's presence.

"No." I roughly pushed him away, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Why don't you ask Lorraine instead."

"Lorraine?"

"Bette saw you hanging off her this afternoon!" Bucky's confusion at my nasty tone turned into realization. My blossoming feelings unwittingly betrayed me, revealing themselves before I even had the chance to comprehend how to deal with them.

"Gin," he exhaled my name in a long breath. "It's not what you think, we're just friends."

I shook my head, backing away from him further, unable to concentrate on gathering the words needed to backpedal away from the jealous outburst. I didn't want to admit how I felt about Bucky. I hadn't wanted to feel anything for anyone.

"Excuse me, I have to go." Abruptly turning around, I marched off in the opposite direction.

* * *

Lingering by the river's edge, I could take a long peaceful moment to collect the water needed to wash my clothes. I enjoyed the sound of running water, it was a calming presence from the usual horrid sounds I was becoming accustom too. I carefully filled the bucket and plucked a handful of wild flowers from the edge of the bank, thinking of the home I'd fled because my dreams of adventure couldn't be contained.

"You shouldn't be down here alone."

A hand instinctively fell into my jacket pocket, fingers grasping the Walther PPK hidden within. Glimpsing back over my shoulder, Bucky emerged from within the trees, entering the small clearing with his rifle posed and ready.

I exhaled a long sigh standing up. "You shouldn't sneak up on people, Barnes."

"I figured it was the only way to get you to talk to me."

I released the Walther PPK and reached for the bucket. "Contrary to belief, my world doesn't revolve around you, I have a lot of work to do."

"Work eh? You don't think I've noticed how you disappear most mornings, nowhere to be seen around the camp. Couple of the nurses think you're a spook."

He sounded bothered, as if he'd taken to stalking my movements to uncover some hidden truth. A truth he either wouldn't believe or attempt to talk me out of whatever suicide mission the SSR had planned for me.

"Do you think I'm a spy?" I raised an eyebrow at him and his serious expression.

"I think you do more than nursing."

"When I'm not stitching up wounds, mopping up blood or sterilizing equipment, I have reports to write, letters to reply too and a stern matron who finds extra work if she feels I have too much time on my hands. My days are full, I barely have a moment to think right now, so I don't know where I could possibly disappear to."

Bucky's shoulders relaxed, an effortless smile curving his lips as he walked over to take the bucket of water from my grasp. "Either way you've been avoiding me."

"Maybe you should try focusing on your work instead of me." I walked beside him as we left the clearing, concentrating on my boots tramping through the wet grass.

"I've been thinking 'bout the other night, I should've said something."

"There wasn't anything to say," I replied curtly, refusing to allow myself to give into the dull ache in my chest.

Training with Peggy kept my mind occupied, never allowing a moment for any thought of Bucky to creep in. I didn't have the same luxury at night, laying silently in my cot when all I could do was stare up at the tented ceiling and wonder how I got myself into such a mess – falling for a man who obviously didn't feel the same way.

"It was a long day, I was tired and…and don't think on anything I said."

"It wasn't what you said, it's how you acted, like you thought I'm stuck on Lorraine or something." I glanced at him to find his blue eyes purely focused on me. "I'm not by the way, we just have a laugh. She's from my neighborhood."

"You seem to have a laugh with most people." My bitter words burned passing my lips, regret far from my mind.

"Yeah," he nodded in agreement. "But you're the only one I've been kissing."

We stopped at the edge of camp, watching as soldiers and other personnel went about their day. Rain clouds quickly rolled in overhead and I didn't doubt I would be in for a long night, with small holes in the tents I'd be swapping out buckets till dawn.

"Is there a guy waiting for you back home?"

I dismissed his unexpected question with a light shake of my head.

"You're kidding?" He scoffed.

"Why are you so surprised?"

"Most of the guys round here would kill to have a dame like you waiting back home for them."

"Well this dame wanted a career before settling down. The war has drawn that plan out longer than expected." I grabbed the water bucket from him, heading towards the nurses' tent, hearing Bucky follow behind me.

"I know a few of the guys got hitched to their girls before shipping out."

"And how many of those girls are widows now?"

"Least they weren't afraid to give it a go, make use of the time they had," he murmured behind me, his voice calm and almost thoughtful.

"Don't you have someone waiting for you to return home?"

"No girl, just my best friend…a punk kid I've looked out for, for as long as I can remember." He smiled fondly as we stopped outside the nurses' tent. "You two would probably get along, both stubborn about fighting in this war."

"Sounds like a smart man." My smile matched his.

"Yeah, figured you'd think so." Bucky shook his head with a sly smile. "Have dinner with me in the mess tonight?"

"I can't, I'm working the night shift."

"I'll bring you something then," he counted persistently.

My head cocked slightly to one side, regarding Bucky with a puzzled look. "Even though I was rude to you?"

"I know you can't resist me, Gin, even though you're trying too." He reached over to kiss my cheek and then wandered off with a spring in his step.

I lightly shook my head heading into the nurses' tent with a spring in my step.


	3. Right Here in My Arms

**CHAPTER THREE – Right Here in My Arms**

 _[October 1943 – Italy]_

One day, no different to any of the others I'd faced, I came to the painful notion these horrendous scenes weren't disturbing me as much as they should. I attempted to save those I could, often kneeling in the snowy mud vainly endeavoring to cease the blood flow of wounds inflicted by enemy soldiers. I whispered comforting words, clutching dirty, bloody hands until they weakened in my grasp and the spark of life left their gazes.

My sanity remained in check thanks to the gallant efforts of Peggy and her training continuing to keep me occupied. Bette wasn't as fortunate to have a redeeming feature; she'd grown weary of death and living in Army issued tents. She counted the days until her return to the States where the home comforts would make the nightmares of war disappear.

"I can't take it anymore!"

I jumped the moment Bette snapped at me; looking up from my report to find my friend pacing the length of the tent.

"I didn't sign up for this!" She angrily threw her hands up in the air beginning a speech I'd heard too often.

"None of us expected to see or do the things we've had to. It's the price you pay for protecting your country –"

"It's not even your country, Genevieve!"

"Maybe not by birth, but I don't doubt this war could stretch to the furthest ends of the world. It hasn't all been bad, we've been given the chance to learn how to shoot and fight, become soldiers."

"I'm not a soldier! And I damn well never wanted to be one. I detest violence!"

I placed my report into a manila folder, tossing it into a tray at the end of the desk. I rose from the chair, straightening my shirt as I went to the nearest cot, checking on the sleeping soldier. Bette's gaze burned into my back. Nothing I said could make her feel better or dampened her anger.

"Aren't you going to say something?"

I eventually faced her with a weary smile. "What is there left to say, Bette?"

"This wasn't what we signed up for! Agent Carter had no right to burden us with this fight, we should leave it to the men and go home!"

My days were long enough without Bette's depression following me around. I didn't have the patience to debate right and wrong choices. "Go and get some sleep, I can handle things here."

"Sleep won't solve anything!"

"Just go back to the nurse's tent, Bette." I reached for her elbow, walking the two of us towards the front of the tent. "Go on." I gently pushed her ahead and she stalked off, muttering under her breath about my reckless choices getting her into trouble.

Rubbing my arms for a quick burst of heat, a steady downpour emerged from the hovering charcoal skies, creating unavoidable puddles and gloomy moods.

"Hello, beautiful."

I snapped out of my daydream, focusing on Bucky walking casually towards me. He flashed me a warm smile, his jacket collar flicked up against his neck to shield him from the unpleasant weather.

"Bucky…" I trailed off as the bleeding cut above his right eye caught my attention. "What trouble have you got yourself into this time?"

"Me and the boys got bored."

"Bored?" I scowled.

"Dugan got in a lucky shot," he muttered sourly. "I'll never hear the end of it."

"Come inside." I motioned for him to follow me into the tent, heading towards the back where a makeshift examining table was set up. "Take your jacket off."

"Whatever you say, sweetheart."

I rolled my eyes while gathering supplies together from a store box. I set a metal tray on the table beside him, a second of distraction allowing Bucky to reach for my hips. He moved me to stand between his parted legs, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

"God, you are so beautiful."

"Flattery will get you nowhere."

"Really?" He questioned smugly.

My warning tone only amused him further and I lightly slapped his cheek when his wandering hands traced the contours of my curves. "You are a sucker for punishment, Barnes."

"You're worth the trouble." I pulled myself from his grasp to grab some of the supplies. "Where's Davis?"

"Gone to the nurses' tent, she's not having a great time at the moment."

"Really? Not the paradise she expected?"

I focused on cleaning the bloodied wound as I replied, "She only volunteered to come over here because I did. The war damaged the grand plan she had for her life, she expected to be married to her boyfriend by now and helping his blossoming political career. According to Bette, he'll be a senator one day."

"I'm impressed. So, no senator in your future then, Gin?"

Despite the rough beat of my heart echoing in my ear, I set the bloodied pad aside and shook my head. "Not that I'm aware of, apparently, my dating standards are lacking, soldiers aren't an attractive choice in Bette's opinion."

Bucky managed a feeble smile. "Well, you won't have to worry about that much longer."

"Has something happened?" I frowned.

"We're heading to the front-line tomorrow, just got our orders this afternoon."

"Even after what happened this morning?"

He nodded. Hardly anyone venturing to the front line came back; there were rumors of the German's bearing weapons like nothing anyone seen before – their power innovated and brutal, completing their work with sufficient savagery. I'd heard soldiers struck with the weapon disappeared into dust, I hadn't met anyone who said anything otherwise.

I flashed him a small smile. "Lucky for you, your handsome face will stay intact. You don't need any stitches." I reached for a Band-Aid and carefully placed it over the clean wound.

"Good, maybe I can have an open casket."

The rage bubbled so easily to the surface, the stress of my surroundings and the life I was living could be pushed aside when I was busy. Yet to hear Bucky speak so carelessly about his death made me slap him hard across the cheek.

"Christ," Bucky muttered darkly, rubbing his cheek. "You're packing a punch there, Gin."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean –" I blushed. "–don't joke about something like that." I gently shifted his hand away and pressed my cold hand to his reddening cheek.

"You've heard the stories; you've heard they've got weapons we can't fight against. No one comes back from the front!"

"I know you'll come back, you're a good soldier. Besides, I have to teach you some manners."

An amused smile played across his lips as his arms wept around my waist again. My body betrayed me as I leaned into him, resting my hands upon his shoulders.

"Does that mean you'll give me a proper send off?" He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively and I pressed my thumb against the Band-Aid making him yelp. "Not even a goodbye kiss?"

"Bucky…"

"Consider it a last request," he murmured glancing obviously between my eyes and lips.

I rested my hands back upon his shoulders, mindlessly plucking fluff off the material. "Please don't talk like that," I begged quietly, trying not to let my thoughts dwell on the possibility on what tomorrow held for the both of us. "The days are hard enough to get through without you being morbid. You have been the brightest part of my life since I came here."

"Then give me something good to fight for out there."

"I should be the last thing on your mind."

"Why?" He leant closer, the tips of our noses touching. I became caught up in the brilliant blue shading of his eyes, as they reminded me of the sky on a perfect summer's day and it eased the rapid beat of my heart. His presence made the entire world fade into the background. "If I'm gonna go down on the battlefield, you're the last thing I wanna see, I wanna smell your perfume, remember your kiss."

"I think that's the most romantic thing a man has ever said to me," I whispered.

He tilted his head slightly and softly pressed his lips to mine. The warmth of his mouth and embrace sent a wild current through my body, our lips moving cautiously – hesitantly as if it could be the last time. My arms curled around his neck, keeping our bodies pressed warmly together until our lips parted. Everything I needed to know about how I felt was confirmed as my lashes fluttered open to reveal Bucky's face. I could happily spend the rest of my life waking up with him beside me, yet the horrible feeling in my gut wouldn't allow me to embrace the happiness I'd unwittingly found in the Brooklyn soldier.

"Promise you'll wait for me?"

"Promise you'll fight to come back to me?"

A slow smile crept upon his face as he replied, "Done."

"You should go; I've got real patients to tend to." I cleared my throat, gently removing myself from his inviting grasp.

"Yes, ma'am." He slid off the table, his boots marching him towards the tent opening, only to pause when I called out to him.

"Bucky!" I rushed over, throwing myself at him. I felt safe, nestled in the protective cage of his arms. "Be careful, don't be a hero, just come back to me."

"Anything for you, sweetheart." He smiled into my neck and then released me with a final lingering kiss, disappearing through the open flaps.

Loneliness hit me, striking at the uncomfortable feeling already brewing in my gut. I couldn't fight the fear of tomorrow, the unknown tearing through my thoughts until another interruption stole my attention.

"Genevieve?"

A flood of relief came with the familiar soft feminine English voice. Turning, the polished brunette I hadn't seen for a couple of weeks walked towards me. there was no kind smile, only an air of business that did nothing for my on-edge nerves.

"Peg, what are you doing here?"

"Well, officially I'm not here, but I wanted to check in and see how you are coping with the tasks I've been setting you."

"I'm doing fine considering the circumstances," I replied honestly, walking over to the desk in the middle of the room and reached for the jacket, pulling it on over my shirt.

"Is there somewhere we can talk privately?"

"I'm on duty, but outside should be fine." I led her outside the tent where the hum of vehicles and soldiers talking would drown out our conversation. "What's on your mind, Peg? I don't need all the cloak and dagger dance, just tell me what's going on."

"You know men from the 107th?"

I thought of Bucky and nodded. "I've patched up those men more than I care to admit; they enjoy a rough tumble. They're a brave bunch though, but even they don't think much of their chances against the stories we've heard lately about the front line."

"They're not just stories," she stated.

I studied Peggy's face for a long moment, yet her serious features didn't falter. "That isn't comforting, some of those men going to the front line are my friends, Peg. One of them is Bucky."

"I know and I'm sorry. For now, do you remember what you learnt about an organization named HYDRA?" I nodded. "Well, we're hoping someone might be able to get into the base tomorrow and uncover more information about Johann Schmidt's plans."

"So, that mission is going ahead?"

Peggy curtly nodded. "Orders have been confirmed. We have discovered most of the men are captured alive, hidden within the bases but from that point we aren't sure what happens to them."

"Bette's still not up for the mission, even if it means assisting me in some way or another," I folded my arms across my chest, ignoring the bitter chill snapping at the back of my neck. "She's not coping at all –"

"I understand she's your friend, Genevieve, but my eye has been firmly on you these past few months. You've adapted to your surroundings and taken on every challenge set before you. You complete this mission and you'll be made an Agent of the SSR. Isn't that why you volunteered in the first place?"

"Yes," I replied quietly, managing a feeble smile as she gently touched my arm.

"I'll have a medic take over here, and I'll come by your tent to brief you."

I nodded glancing over at the mess tent where several men from the 107th prepared for their own mission. A voice in the back of my head questioned if I was ready to undertake such a mission, training only got you so far out in the field. I rubbed my arms firm in my decision, heading back into the warmth of the tent.


	4. Sweet Pandemonium

**CHAPTER FOUR – Sweet Pandemonium**

The male Army uniform didn't tailor my slender figure, hanging loosely to mask the womanly features not usually seen on the front line. A dirty green cap hid my pinned up brown waves and Peggy aided in binding my chest flat the night before. Despite Bette's reluctance and fear about me undertaking an undercover mission, she assisted by coloring in my eyebrows to make them thicker. She even went as far as to rub a light coating of dirt along my jaw for outlandish looking stubble.

"You make an attractive looking man, Genevieve," Bette smiled stepping back to admire her handy work. "Not bad at all."

"Hopefully not too attractive, I'm meant to be blending in." I walked over to my cot and reached under it for my tin box. I turned back to Bette, glancing self-consciously at Peggy who was peering over a map of the area. "Bette," I murmured.

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you to do something for me?" She walked over glancing between my face and the box as I extended it to her. "Everything I hold dear is in this box, photographs, letters…even my mother's locket. I'd like you to look after it for me, and if…" I trailed off, swallowing through the lump in my throat to continue. "If the worse should happen, would you make sure my mother gets this? I've written her a letter explaining everything. There's one for Bucky as well if he returns."

"Of course, I will, but I won't need too. You and Barnes will both be back here before you know it." She smiled and embraced me firmly.

"Does that mean you approve of him?"

"If he makes you happy, I guess even I can't argue with that."

I wanted to share her optimism yet somehow, I couldn't quite embrace it. I didn't know what the future held for me, or even if I had a future to live after today.

* * *

Late into the night, Peggy and I spoke about the mission, scrutinizing plans of the HYDRA base I'd willingly be led into after being captured by their soldiers. Even when the dawn light woke me from an apprehensive sleep, I battled with whether I was the right person for the task. Whatever my uneasiness, I promised to do everything in my power to complete the mission.

It wasn't difficult to blend in with the rest of the men during the day, waiting for the order to leave camp. I cleaned my weapons, kept an eye on Bucky and cleaned my weapons again for good measure.

The late-night air left a chill lingering on my bare skin, causing a shiver to run down my spine. Yet somehow, I knew it wasn't directly influenced by the winter cold. Walking amongst the men of the 107th, I held a rifle posed for an unknown threat that could stir at any moment. I saw my own fears reflected in the eyes of my fellow man.

An eerie silence weaved within the evening fog surrounding us. If it weren't for the remaining snow crunching beneath our combat boots, my nerves would've been completely on edge. I did a quick glance around the forest, deathly still for no life other than soldiers moved through it, and spied Bucky in the distance with his rifle posed and ready for a threat. Carefully, I shifted my path towards him, coming up beside him and peeked up to catch his glance.

His eyes widened in recognition and his rifle lowered. "Gin?"

"Glen," I corrected him trying to lower the tone of my voice. "Glen Rhodes."

"What are you doing here?" He hissed hastily looking around at the other soldiers who were thankfully caught up in their own thoughts to notice we were talking.

"I couldn't let you boys have all the fun."

"This isn't a game!" My smile faded at the contempt and distain he showed at my words. "You don't belong here; you'll get yourself killed!"

"I'm not some damsel in distress, Bucky! I know how to handle myself as well as any man here," I hissed back only to jump with the sharp crack of gunfire. The automatic cry of the bullet connecting with flesh followed initiating a goose bump break out all over my body.

As I motioned to move into position for retaliation, Bucky's violent grip of my arm hauled me behind the trunk of a large tree. Rough edges of bark stabbed into my bark, Bucky not noticing my grimace as he used his body as a shield. He swore under his breath, pulling away as the rifle slipped from my grasp. Taking a deep breath, I pulled a Walther PPK pistol from the back of my pants; clicking off the safety.

"You know how to use that?" Bucky's body stiffened in shock.

"I don't spend all my free time patching yo –"

"GRENADE!"

Bucky shielded me as an explosion went off nearby, spitting dirt and snow in every direction. The faint ringing in my ears was enough to distract me from the instinct to run to the aid of the howling screams. I was a soldier now. The only thing that mattered was the mission. Bucky pulled back, coughing through the fog of death.

"I'm taking you back to camp –"

"I've got my orders!" I stared defiantly up at him as his gaze fixated on me, a genuine fear erupting. "You were right, all those times I disappeared from camp, I was training with an SSR agent. Training for a mission to get into the HYDRA base."

"You're a nurse, not a soldier! This isn't your war to fight, Gin," he argued reaching for my hand. I snatched it from his grasp raising my pistol. "You won't shoot me."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Like you said, I'm a nurse. I won't kill you, but I know several places in the human body where a bullet would sit comfortably until you reached a medical unit. I have just as much right to be here as you do. And I need to get into that base."

"No," he shook his head, his stubborn resolve as strong as mine. "No one comes back from there! I won't lose you too!"

We cringed as another grenade exploded; the stench of smoke and blood burning my nostrils with every breath. Bucky and I stared each other for another long moment and I eventually lowered my pistol.

"There are potentially American soldiers imprisoned in that base, Bucky, it's my mission to get in there and discover if that's true. I'm going…even if that means going through you."

Cracks of gunfire drew closer towards our position; some of our soldier's running back pass us with no sense or reason, just absolute pandemonium to get away from the German threat. With a determined look Bucky picked up my rifle.

"All right, I'll get you to the German base. You stay behind me, no matter what, do you hear me?"

I nodded, grabbing a handful of his jacket, grasping him closer to press my lips to his. It was a brazen kiss that held nothing back. With all the uncertainty dancing around us, a moment of contact was all I needed to know Bucky was everything good in my world.

A slow smile curved his lips as we parted. "What was that for?" He questioned in a state of awe.

"Because you believe in me." I whispered.

We moved out from our hiding spot, ducking in and out of the dispersing crowd. It was all struggle, all hell – a blinding chaos as bullets buzzed like angry hornets around us. Bucky skills as a sniper picked off a handful of HYDRA soldiers – commanding attention, outfitted in black combat body armor, which appeared to protect them mostly from body shots. We paused behind another tree to catch our breath and Bucky peeked out.

"I can see the base up ahead. Looks like there's a large warehouse and plenty of vehicles."

"We'll need a distraction, so I can slip in."

I heard footsteps approaching behind us and twisted my body around coming face to face with a masked soldier. Up close, they were just as threatening, their body amour thick but their lower face exposed. I raised my pistol without hesitation, finger hugging the trigger to release a bullet from the single column magazine. The brawny body awkwardly stumbled back through a murky sea of crimson as the bullet sliced through his neck.

"Christ," Bucky muttered behind me. My tongue ran over my parched lips tasting dirt and salty sweat, lungs burning as I breathed normally again. "Nice shot, Gin."

I gawked at the body for a long minute. I'd never killed anyone before. I'd seen my fair share of death in the ward tents, but never been directly responsible for a soldier dying. I blinked at my trembling hand and glanced at Bucky. "How far to the base?"

"Not far. Are you okay?"

I nodded retrieving a couple of grenades from my utility belt making Bucky's eyebrows rise again. "This should clear out whatever or whoever is in the way."

"You're not like any other dame I've ever known."

"I'll take that as a compliment." I smiled yanking out the pins atop of the grenades, handing one to Bucky.

We threw them as hard as we could towards the gate entrance. A series of explosions lifted the burning trucks off their wheels and sent chucks of metal and bodies flying in all directions. I stood up, roughly removing the brown leather jacket, revealing a dark brown cotton shirt, and detached another pistol out of the holster attached to my thigh.

We stalked the tree line towards the main gate, passing mangled bodies of enemy soldiers to enter the grounds of the HYDRA base. Futuristic designed trucks and tanks commanded most of the space, a bold demonstration of power meant for world domination. My stomach turned knowing these creations maimed and slaughtered thousands of soldiers. Nevertheless, their amour made great refuge for Bucky and me as we did a prompt scan of the yard.

"So how you planning on getting in?"

I peeked around the bulky black tank we knelt behind; discovering a loading dock with limited guards. I could easily take them out alone without drawing too much attention to myself. "I'm going to walk in through the loading docks, after taking out those men."

"You're just gonna waltz right in? That's your big plan?" I glanced back at Bucky as he tossed the empty rifle away and nodded my head. "You're joking?"

"No, and you can't come with me. You should get out while you can –"

"I'm not leaving!"

"Why must you be so stubborn?"

"Ditto," he muttered.

I checked my belt for more ammunition, carefully reloading my first pistol. "Okay, we'll make a run for it –"

Bucky cut me off with a kiss, one that sent licks of electricity through my veins as his hands rose to cup my dirty face. We parted, and he grinned, affectionately brushing his nose against mine. "We needed a proper goodbye, sweetheart."

"Your timing is terrible," I murmured making him chuckle until a bullet ricocheted off the tank beside us.

We abruptly parted and unexpectedly discovered ourselves enclosed by three burly German soldiers.

I held up my pistols, only to lower them in defeat. "Shit. Well, we don't have to worry about getting inside now."

"Yeah, you're stuck with me now." Bucky raised his hands as two of the soldiers stomped towards us and stole what weapons we possessed.

The soldiers didn't communicate with us or amongst themselves, unyielding in their movements. Two of them held Bucky by an arm, while one held mine as they marched us into the base. We entered a long, vacant corridor made up of mostly red brick. I attempted to etch the surroundings into memory, casting quick glances into opened doorways we passed, highly surprised at the lack of tribute pictures of Hitler. Directed into a long room made up of concrete walls, we found a strange hospital table position at the opposite end of the room. The large operating light above the table highlighted a series of needles and other contraptions not familiar to my medical knowledge.

I shot Bucky a nervous glance whilst he curiously studied the table. "I don't like the look of that operating table. I don't recognize any of the instruments."

"That's not comforting," he murmured. "You let me do the talking."

"Finally, we have two worthy test subjects."

Every accented syllable made my skin crawl, a slender German officer, dressed in a spiffy black uniform walked towards us. His coldness detached him from the surroundings, as if we were all beneath him. I held myself confidently, staring into the dark eyes of Johann Schmidt – the man running HYDRA's operations.

"You are small." He grabbed my chin, lifting my head to reveal his hawk like facial features.

"Leave him! Take me!" Bucky's outburst only made Schmidt smile, his cold eyes never leaving mine as if Bucky's words unwittingly revealed my secret.

My mother would've said they were the devils' eyes. If the soldier didn't possess a strong grip of my arms, I would've crossed myself in fear Schmidt was the devil my parents spoke about during my childhood.

"Your friend is eager to defend you, perhaps there is more to you –"

I kicked him swiftly and cleanly in the shin. He faulted, quickly retorting with a violent backhand to my cheek. The force jolted me back into the soldier, and Bucky squirmed in his captors hold.

"That was unpleasant." Schmidt snatched the cap off my head, allowing my brown waves to fall around my face as I glared defiantly up at him.

"Ah, a woman," he smirked, seemingly impressed by my deception. "Eager to defend her country, she lies to prove herself worthy. We both hide our true selves from the world. What is your name, fräulein?"

"Go to hell!" I spat. He grabbed me by the back of my neck, making me stumble and fall against him. "I'm not afraid of you," I murmured darkly.

"Lies do not become you." He released me, shoving me back into soldier. "Strip her! The fräulein will go through the procedure first!" He barked his orders.

Bucky vainly thrashed to be released. "NO! Take me, you bastards!"

"You may continue, Doctor Zola." Schmidt raised an eyebrow as one of the soldiers ripped off my shirt revealing my bound chest.

I kneed the guard in the groin, throwing myself forward to snatch up a scalpel from the tray set up beside the table. I spun around, throwing my arm up and crying out as the lethal blade met his neck in a scarlet symphony. He stumbled backwards, awkwardly clutching his throat as blood spilled through his fingers. I advanced on the other guard bent over in pain when Schmidt's voice broke through the chaos. He held his pistol to Bucky's head, smug in my certain defeat.

"Drop the scalpel, fräulein."

The bloodied scalpel trembled in my grasp even though I defiantly held it out before me.

"Don't do it, Gin!" Bucky snapped. "You kill as many of the sonsofbitches as you can!"

Schmidt pressed the barrel against Bucky' temple, not a shred of fear or submission present on his harsh features. He would kill Bucky just to see the grief tear me to shreds. "Drop the scalpel," he repeated.

I glanced between Schmidt and Bucky, his eye pleading for me to do my duty rather than give into emotion. There was no guarantee either of us would make it out of the building alive, whether we surrendered or not.

"Do you wish to see your love die, fräulein?"

"I'm sorry, Bucky," I whispered, feeling my fingers loosen, allowing the scalpel to drop with a clatter to the floor.

"Strap her down to the table."

The soldiers brutally grabbed at me, dragging me towards the operating table. I twisted in the soldiers' grasp trying to loosen their iron clutches, but they effortlessly lifted me onto the cold stainless-steel table. I managed to catch one last glance at Bucky's distraught face before they forced me down. Leather bands strapped my arms against the cold surface, the metal buckles scratching into bare flesh as they secured them. They pulled off my combat boots and trousers, tying down my legs.

"GIN!" Bucky cried out, a hollow grunt following, as he must have received a blow to the stomach, winding him and preventing him from speaking again.

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, terror came gasping up in my throat in a cold, panting fear. This wasn't part of my grand plan to prove myself worthy, people were relying on me and I was letting them down.

The small Doctor Zola peered down at me, silently going about his work.

"What are you going to do to me?" I looked at him helplessly through tear-tipped lashes.

He timidly met my gaze as he finished preparing the threatening syringe he held. "We will make you the new face of HYDRA, fräulein."

"No…"

His fingers found a large vein pulsating in fear and gently stuck the thin needle into the flesh of my arm, making me gasp. My teeth dug into my bottom lip, breaking through the skin to draw blood as my back arched off the table. A scorching pain began to consume me, a horrific scream ripping from my mouth but as quickly as the pain started, darkness surpassed it, and I fell limp.


	5. Lose You Tonight

**CHAPTER FIVE – Lose You Tonight**

The moment I woke within the haze of grogginess, a small groan emitted from my lips. I heard shuffling of feet nearby and opened my eyes to discover thick bars before me. My hands rested on the cold ground, something like concrete as the chill sunk through the clothes I wore. A dull ache surfaced in my head, knocking against my temple causing me to groan again.

"Gin!"

I frowned at the sound of the familiar voice, trying to search through my memories for a name that matched the warm voice, only finding it as my tongue slid over my parched lips. "Bucky?"

"Thank God," he sighed with relief while I awkwardly sat myself up, tugging the hem of the thin nightgown over my knees, bruised and numb with cold.

"Where am I?"

"HYDRA have us."

My surroundings gave the impression to be some sort of cage, and just enough light to make up a room jam-packed with similar cages occupied with weary soldiers. Next to mine I saw Bucky, clinging desperately to the bars separating us. His hair unkempt and the dark circles beneath his eyes made him appear older. I fought through the numbness in my limbs, scrambling across the cold floor to embrace him through the bars.

"I thought they'd killed you!" I couldn't stop the tears, they spilled from the corners of my eyes and rolled down my cheeks in waves of relief.

"I'm okay, sweetheart," he mumbled kissing every inch of my face he could. "Where've you been?"

"What do you mean?" I frowned.

"I haven't seen you in weeks."

"Weeks…but we-we…were just captured."

Bucky frowned, his dirty hands clutching my shoulders while the soldiers behind him gathered closer. "That was weeks ago, Gin, those soldiers took us into that room, remember?"

"My head…it's all blurry," I murmured, cringing as Bucky's hands, tangled in my loose waves tightened.

"She's like the others."

I glanced at the Englishman with a mustache and a grubby uniform. "Who are these men?" I whispered.

"You know Tim Dugan, Gin," he lowered his hands and pointed out his cellmates to me one by one. "The others are Monty Falsworth, Gabe Jones, Jacques Dernier and Jim Morita. Guys, this is Genevieve Renard."

"You want to tell us why a dame like you was captured by HYDRA?" Dugan questioned me sternly. "Last I checked you were just a nurse Barnes kept chewing my ear off about. Even asked me to hit him just so he could see you."

"I-I…" I glanced at Bucky who kindly nodded his head.

"You can tell them."

"I don't remember, Bucky, everything seems blurry. I just remember you calling out to me."

"She had some mission to get into the HYDRA base, find out if they had POW's. But we got captured and they did something to her." Bucky explained flashing me a feeble smile.

"You're not the only one not to remember, doll," Dugan replied taking off his bower hat to run a hand back through his thick hair. "Every other day they take a handful of soldiers away, we're lucky to see one or two of them again, and if we do, they don't remember what happened to them either."

I swallowed hard, doubt and fear mixing in a way that gnawed at the back of my mind. Something was seriously wrong; how could I lose time and not remember a single thing?

"They have the rest of us working in the factory, building their weapons."

"Apparently, we're the lucky chaps," Falsworth commented more brightly than I expected, but I guessed he had a point. They still all had their memories intact, God knows what happened to the other soldiers.

"What happened to me, Bucky?"

"You were strapped down to a table and injected with something. They hit me on the back of the head, and I woke up in here. No one heard about you, and then two guards carried you in here today." He reached for my hands again, running his thumb over my red and bruised knuckles. "I hate to think what they've been doing to you."

"Here, you should probably eat something." Dugan grabbed a small piece of bread from a metal plate on the floor nearby, he passed it through the bars, so I could hold the stale piece of bread. I wasn't hungry, but with the way the men were looking at me, I figured they'd badger me until I'd eaten every crumb.

"Well, there's our excitement for the day, a wayward nurse trying to take on HYDRA singlehandedly," Falsworth chuckled dropping down to sit beside Bucky.

"Yeah, Barnes sure knows how to pick 'em," Dugan remarked folding his arms across his board chest while I silently ate.

-x-

Bucky and I sat side by side, the thick cell bars separated us from the comfort I desperately needed – to be wrapped up in the loving embrace to soothe the discomfort of fear. Groups of soldiers were escorted pass my cell, most looking worse for wear and only a handful returning hours later. The HYDRA soldiers only spoke when it was to shut us up. I watched often as Dugan taunted them the most, yet I remained unbothered – forgotten was how Falsworth pleasantly described it. He and the rest of Bucky's cellmates were the only ones who conversed with me, keeping my spirits up as much as theirs.

"We'll get out of here, Gin, I promise."

I rested my head against the cool metal as Bucky finally spoke up, his voice quiet and tight.

"It's not leaving this place that bothers me," Bucky glanced at me. "I've lost weeks of my life as if it never happened. I'm covered in dry blood and I have no idea if it's mine. There are bruises and cuts from…I don't know where. I have no idea what's happened to me, and it scares me."

I hung my head shamefully when my vision blurred with the onset of tears. I didn't want to cry in front of him, but I couldn't control the overwhelming vulnerability.

"We'll figure it out, people will be looking for us." He reached through the bars to hold my hand. "One day, we'll look back and think this was just a bad dream," he laced our dirty fingers in a tighter lock. "'Cause I'll spend the rest of my life making sure you never feel like this again."

"B-Bucky…" my chin trembled with my whisper.

"I love you, Gin, no war will change that." He squeezed my hand and I couldn't bring myself to argue with him. "You'll see, we'll get outta here and go anywhere you want, just name the place."

"I don't care where we go, just as long as we can be together."

"How 'bout your parents? Would your dad let me marry you?"

I fought back a watery smile. "No."

"No? What? I'm a catch?"

I laughed for the first time in ages. "You are, but he wouldn't agree."

"I'm sure I can win him over."

"Bucky, there's things about me that you don't know…things that might change how you feel about me."

"Not possible," he stated brightly.

"Bucky," my gaze dropped to the ground shamefully. "I ran away from home –"

"It doesn't matter to me, Gin, we're together now, that's all that matters, all we need to get through this nightmare."

"I love you, James Barnes." I smiled bringing his hand to my lips to sweetly kiss the dirty skin. His blue eyes flicked up to meet mine, the corners of his lips curving upwards as if he'd heard the best news in all his life.

Two guards appearing at my cell door shattered our blissful moment, violently throwing it open as Bucky released my hand, so I could scramble to my feet as he did.

"What are you doing?" I looked between the guards, unable to read their expressions.

"Time to go."

"Go where?" I questioned snatching my elbow from the first guard who tried to grab me.

"Leave her alone!" Bucky kicked his boot against the bars as the others moved to stand beside him.

The brawnier of the two guards, wrapped an arm around my neck, clutching me in a snug headlock. I gasped for a breath, vainly kicking out my legs while the other guard slammed his baton against the bars, forcing the men to back off whilst I was dragged from the cell.

"GIN!" Bucky's desperate cry haunted me until the moment I passed out in the guards' grasp.


	6. Sleepwalking Past Hope

**CHAPTER SIX – Sleepwalking Past Hope**

 _[January 1944 – HYDRA Base]_

I couldn't breathe properly in the small amount of area my captors permitted for me to be held in. My nostrils flared upon inhaling the strong stench of damp and dust when I woke from a deep state of unconsciousness. My memories fuzzy to say the least; it didn't surprise me considering the unbearable thump in my head. When I struggled to stretch out my limbs, the chains that bonded me in this tiny cell clinked and jingled together. The annoying sound wasn't enough to distract me from my headache or the way my muscles seized up in protest at the slightest move.

I simply gave up in the end, resting my head back against the concrete wall. I didn't know what day it was, or how long I'd been out. I'd woken in the dark, in what I assumed was a moving vehicle. Ever since the movement occurred often, the gentle hum of an engine making my cell vibrate for long periods. However, a fragile drop of water hitting my forehead destroyed my moment of reflection. A slight crack in the ceiling above was enough space for water to form – I gathered it was responsible for the damp patches on my dirty clothes.

I squirmed in my restraints while the delicate drop slid along the neat path of my nose, tickling the senses I couldn't possibly scratch before falling off the end.

Seconds later a thud rebounded against the iron door before me. More droplets of rain slated through the crack, the delicate skin of my wrists beginning to chafe against the handcuffs as I struggled, despite knowing I couldn't fight whatever waited on the other side. The door awkwardly scrapped over the concrete floor as it was forcibly opened revealing a HYDRA soldier.

"How are you feeling this morning, young lady?"

I blinked through the confusion of the foreign language spoken, trying to pinpoint where I'd heard the familiar voice before. The armed soldier stepped aside, and Doctor Zola took his place. I felt relieved for some reason and managed a reply. "I-I don't understand what you said."

"I asked how you are feeling this morning?"

"Where am I?"

"Do not worry yourself about such matters."

He gave the soldier a curt nod, sending the soldier wordlessly towards me. the chains rattled obviously as I attempted to shrink away, helpless to defend myself if he threatened violence. The soldier didn't even acknowledge my existent, focusing on undoing the bolts to release my arms. They fell like dead weights to my sides, knees buckling and giving out beneath the sudden pressure. Collapsing in a heap to the ground, my knees scraped against the rough surface of the floor.

"Bring the fräulein please, soldier."

The soldier unbolted the chains securing my feet and then roughly hauled me up. I stumbled like a drunk against his side as he marched us from the cell into the well-lit, narrow corridor. I groaned into the blinding light erupting through large windows displaying a rapidly moving scenery.

"I'm on a train?" I frowned through my fingers shielding my eyes.

"Yes."

"Where are you taking me? What do you want from me?"

"I must run tests."

"Tests? What kind of tests?" I questioned trying to get my bare feet to move in time with the soldier's brisk march while glancing at Zola who was busy studying the papers upon his clipboard.

"I must understand how the serum modifies your cells."

"Serum? I don't understand…what are you talking about? What have you Nazi bastards done to me?"

Zola raised his eyebrows at me, but not in the infuriated way, I anticipated. A sense of curiosity appeared in his gaze, as if standing before was a prized piece of art, rather than a human being.

"Forgive me if I pass over complicated details of your procedure," he gestured to my knees, my gaze falling and widening as the bloodied flesh healed gradually before my very eyes. "I injected you with a serum based on the formula Erskine used on Captain America. Unfortunately, plans to retrieve a vial of his serum were unsuccessful and I made do with generating my own."

Having worked on Project Rebirth I understood what he spoke about. "Are we the same?"

"No, my dear girl, similar in most enhancements. When I run my tests, I shall know more. He is the reason we are constantly moving. He entered the base you attempted to break into, releasing all the prisoners. Schmidt was ever so mad."

"Prisoners…" I remember Bucky and the others held in the cell next to mine. "They were all released?"

Zola curtly nodded and relief flooded me. "You are our only test subject not held by our enemies."

"When did this happen?"

"A month ago, a mere day or so after we removed you from your cell."

"Why me? Why are you doing this to me?" I whispered grasping for a decent breath, yet it seemed my lungs weren't filling up with air fast enough. I couldn't control my racing heartbeat and found myself becoming lightheaded. My movements became sluggish and the soldier grunted, his footsteps staggering as he was forced to adjust his grip of my waist.

"Doctor!"

Zola turned around, standing before me to shine a light in my eyes. "Breathe, my girl –" I sobbed, blindly grasping at the soldier to keep myself standing. "Calm yourself!"

I wanted to answer but once the tears started, they wouldn't stop falling, rolling as an unleashed river down my face. Almost as quickly, a warmth and the scent of woody cologne burned my nostrils; the soldier scooped my exhausted figure up into his arms. My head rested heavily against his board chest, tears sinking into the thick material of his uniform.

"Take her to the procedure room!" Zola barked.

The soldier shadowed Zola's hurried steps along the corridor, rounding a corner sharply. He entered another room and set me down upon a cold steel table. My back arched off the surface, the coldness stinging like a white-hot heat. The soldier braced a hand upon my stomach, pushing me down and I remained still while trying not to choke on my emotions.

"What are you doing?" I murmured, my head shifting to one side just in time to observe Zola stick me with a needle. My blurry gaze was transfixed on watching crimson blood fill the vial, a feeble moan vibrating my lips when an empty vial took the place of a full one.

"Help her sit up."

The soldier roughly pulled me into a sitting position, a firm hand on my shoulder keeping me still. "Should I collect the instructor?"

"Yes," Zola nodded. "Inform him her training can commence tomorrow, she will be well by then. I will send a telegram to Schmidt; she needs to be treated better. When did she last eat or bathe?"

"I was ordered to guard the door, nothing else," the soldier replied gruffly, the two talking through me.

I tuned out the conversation Zola began with the soldier in their native tongue, gently shifting my legs over the side of the table, letting them hang there while studying my surroundings. It appeared like any other surgical room you would find in a civilized hospital. It wasn't its appearance though, that perked my interest. I noticed a chair on the opposite side of the room, a table beside it occupying what appeared to be an electro shock therapy unit. I'd only seen something like that once before, and nervously eyed the paddles meant to press to a person's temples.

I looked down at the ripped holes in my pants, lowering a hand to finger the frayed bloodied edges. I slipped off the table, walking unhindered towards the mirror in the corner. I studied my reflection, surprised to find it unchanged. Every feature I'd seen before from the hazel eyes and lightly tanned flesh, to the dark brown waves reaching my breasts. Nervously, I reached for the hem of my shirt, lifting it gradually to discover my muscles were defined and stomach flat, with no slight bump to remind me of the weight gained during puberty. The material slipped through my fingers as I turned on Zola.

"What do you plan to do with me now? Are you going to drain every drop of blood in my veins?"

"My dear –"

"–harvest my organs –"

"Please –"

"–and dump me in a shallow grave! Or better yet, send my empty carcass back to the States!" I spat angrily, hands tightening into hard fists. "Is winning this war so god damn important that you'll experiment on innocent people?"

"You are the exception to the rule, my dear. Your body has appeared to have bonded with the serum. With the right training you will become HYDRA's very own Captain America. You can turn the tide of this war in our favor."

A deep pit of dread consumed me with his words, and tears easily reformed, blurring my gaze once again. My lashes clumped together when my lids couldn't hold back the tears any longer. It should've been a sweet release to cry, to mourn for the life I'd fought so hard to create in the first place – only to have it snatched away from the evil I wanted to fight.

I glanced up through my damp vision as Zola went back to making his notes. Despite my anger, I couldn't think of a way out of this situation. Under the soldier's glare I silently vowed to be HYDRA's puppet until I found a way to secure my freedom and take the bastards down with me.


	7. Behind the Crimson Door

**CHAPTER SEVEN – Behind the Crimson Door**

 _[February 1944 – Stuttgart, Germany]_

Dreadful floral wallpaper greeted me upon stepping out of the motel bathroom. It wasn't easy to ignore how it clashed against the floral covered furnishings. If the effect was to brighten the dreary room, it was failing on every point. Nevertheless, I didn't expect classy décor for an hourly paid room; people certainly didn't stay in places like this to admire the furnishings. Smoothing the patterned dress into place, my cheeks warmed at the thought of how easily it'd been discarded the moment I trapped myself in the room with the target.

Through a hard swallow, I sheepishly glanced at the naked middle-aged man sitting in bed. A hand rested loosely at his throat, exposing half of the single gash I'd inflicted with his own razorblade. Blood pooled like a vicious wave around the chubby body, sinking further into the sheets. I turned away. I should've felt something, but having been told this man was a traitor, I didn't feel anything. He was my mission.

I walked over to the dresser, flippantly brushing a hand back over my hair. I'd taken care in reapplying the lipstick – a sinister shade of red to complement my nails. I gathered my purse and jacket, leaving the room without a final look over my shoulder. Skipping down the stairs, I pulled on the jacket not catching the attention of the attendant sleeping behind the desk and strolled out of the building undeterred. With the break in the weather, the streets were crowded, yet they appeared to part as a black vehicle pulled up to the curb. The back door flew open, revealing my instructor; Boris.

"Get in, sweetheart."

Despite the flipflop my stomach did, I climbed into the vehicle. The athletically lean, middle-aged man with sparse blonde hair and cold dark blue eyes stared me down. His method: intimidation, threatening me not only with his gaze but also with words and violence – relishing every second I squirmed beneath his bear sized hands.

"Is he dead?"

I nodded staring straight ahead at the back of the driver's head.

"Good girl." He praised me warmly, resting a hand on my thigh as he leaned close to bury his nose in my hair.

I could've reached for it, broken every tiny bone in his hand without a shred of guilt. I knew I could do it without battering an eyelash but didn't. Something strong, an invisible force inside me held me back. This was my life, a constant merry-go-round of violent meetings and vague memories, and I deemed myself helpless to end the cycle.

-x-

 _[May 1944 – Occupied Belgium]_

Dawn light woke me from a dreamless sleep. A brisk stretch and I rose from the cot bed occupying one wall of the small windowless room – the closest thing to home that I knew. My waves had fallen from their braid, and I'd only just redone it when the door unlocked, opening revealing Doctor Zola.

"Good morning, Agent."

My hands clasped together behind my back as I stood to attention before him. "Good morning, Doctor."

"Did you sleep well?" I curtly nodded. "Good, follow me for your treatment."

Stalking Zola's footsteps was almost as if stepping to a dance learnt during my youth. I moved automatically, if not robotically through an underground base displaying various HYDRA banners and passing staunch soldiers clothed in black tactical uniforms. We entered the medical room where several men in white coats and armed soldiers lingered around a single chair position in the middle of the room. Without hesitation, my gaze locked on the electro shock therapy unit, familiar for a reason I couldn't quite grasp.

"Take a seat, Agent." Zola motioned to the chair.

I stood transfixed by the simple chair, believing it personally held a fate I no longer wanted.

"Take a seat, Agent, compliance will be rewarded." Zola came to my side when I stubbornly shook my head.

Boris emerged from within the group of soldiers. He rose his calloused hands, cautiously walking towards me in a sign of peace, yet the coldness in his eyes betrayed his actions, revealing his true intent.

"Sweetheart, time for treatment. Do not force me to show unkindness and spill your precious blood." He spoke in his deep, thick German accent, making my skin crawl in the process.

His comment drew my glare. "I would like to see you try."

Boris reached a hand behind his back, gradually pulling it back to reveal a bowie knife. The intense glare of the lights above us caught the sharpened blade. He anticipated a victory due to his long years of military service, but I also thought of a dozen ways I could use the weapon to slice his flesh.

"This is not necessary!" Zola called for reason when it was obviously long gone. "Let me talk to her, I do not want her harmed."

"She will learn her lesson the hard way, no?" Boris' thin lips stretched into a sinister smirk.

"Fräulein!"

A baton flew towards me, I effortlessly caught it with a hand, my fingers grasping the cool surface of the weapon. I studied Boris for a long moment. There was only one way this could end, someone needed to die, and despite his irritatingly atrocious smile, I appreciated it wouldn't be my body the soldiers would drag from the room.

Like every other male I'd been forced to tolerate, Boris assumed his muscles were the core of his strength. He attacked hard, stabbing the point of his Bowie ahead of him but hit nothing but air. His next blow was surprisingly harder to dodge; his wrist flicked lifting the blade in an upward angle, catching my side when I took a swipe at his head. A whimper locked in my throat as the refined edge cut against my flesh, drawing first blood. A dampness ooze into the thin material of my shirt, and the anger burned intensely. I struck Boris in the mouth with a hard fist. Ducking around him I raised the baton, summoning every ounce of rage, because the moment he opened his mouth to taunt me, the bat connected with his jaw. His slender body twisted strangely away from the strength of the swing. His feet lifted off the ground, as the force sent him flying back into the nearest cabinet, smashing it completely.

I marched towards Boris whilst he coughed blood and bits of teeth onto the shattered glass surrounding him. Glancing back over my shoulder at Zola, he nervously clung to his clipboard but didn't speak. Bringing the baton up, I threw it down powerfully upon Boris' head, repeating the violence until my arm muscles burned in protest.

"THAT IS ENOUGH!" Zola shouted.

A small breath exhaled calmly from my lips, the bloodied baton slipping from my sweat laced hands to land in the puddle of blood mixing in with what was once Boris' head. I turned to face the soldiers, most pale and sickly after witnessing my display of carnage. This wasn't the usual sparring match they were used to – this was the vicious reality of the serum flowing through my body.

Running a hand across my forehead, I dropped down into the chair without a word. Arrogance held my head high despite the fact Zola went about preparing the machine. Another doctor strapped me down, nervously tightening the leather bounds to cut into flesh. I flinched with the brisk pain, staring blankly at two soldiers dragging Boris' corpse from the room. What men were left stared at the blood pool in various shades of sickness – they'd never doubt me again.

The sharp crack of an electric shock snapped my attention to the machine before focusing on Zola. He held out a wooden stick, as it drew closer towards me, I could make out the bite marks from past treatments. I willingly opened my mouth, when the base rumbled above us. The dome lights swung, flickering menacingly. The men scrambled for their footing, clumsily reaching for each other or something sturdy to hold but another deep rumble followed the first and I recognized the feeling as an explosion. A panting soldier appeared in the doorway, yelling three words that sent everyone but me into a blind panic.

"IT'S CAPTAIN AMERICA!"

The armchair rattled with the next explosion, and I fought against the straps holding me down. Zola came to my aid, about to undo the binds when the other doctors grabbed his short arms, dragging him away.

"We must flee!"

"She is lost!"

"No!" Zola cried out in vain, powerless to fight off the men escorting him from the room. I felt his vulnerability, incapable to break the bonds to free myself without tearing my flesh.

Footsteps thundered up and down the corridor. Shouts and gunfire following as whatever the battle, raged closer towards me. The lights continued to spark sinisterly above my head, the stench of gunpower and death swimming around me in a way I felt all too comfortable with. Deep down I knew it was wrong to feel this way, something wasn't quite right with me, yet I could never grasp why. My thoughts shattered into reality with the arrival of two soldiers – neither of which were HYDRA. One wore a bowler hat and his top lip appeared covered by a bushy mustache, while the other was an Oriental.

"Well, I'll be," the bowler hat man revealed himself as an American, holstering his weapon to smack the smaller Oriental man on the back in cheerful jest. "Go and find Barnes."

"Is that who I think it is?"

"Sure is." The burly American walked towards me with a big grin plastered upon his face. "I'm sure glad to see you, Renard."

I braced myself, not knowing what to expect.

"We've been looking for you everywhere." He smiled undoing the straps.

The second the leather bounds slipped from one wrist, I kicked a leg up between the American's legs, catching him perfectly in the groin. He grunted, dropping to his knees in certain discomfort. I scrambled to undo the other strap, and then stole a handgun from his belt as I stood up.

"Who have you sent for?" The barrel of the Thompson handgun banged against the hard top of his hat. I'd already killed one man today, what difference would two make?

"Barnes," he puffed, "Y'know, Bucky Barnes, your lover boy?"

"I don't know who you're talking about, but you're going to help me get out of here alive." I clicked off the safety to prove I wasn't playing around. My chances of escaping were rapidly disappearing – the base was lost and if captured…I wouldn't be captured; my orders were very clear. No one would take me alive.

"We've got the same plan, Renard."

"Stop calling me that!"

"I'll call you whatever you want, sweetheart, but I ain't here to hurt you, I'm trying to save you."

"What a silly American fantasy!" I spat unkindly, loose strands of hair falling around my face. "I can assure you, I am no damsel in distress, I can take care of myself."

"You won't hear me argue with you on that one," he muttered under his breath.

"HEY!"

A dark-haired man outfitted in dark combat pants and a dark blue military jacket suddenly stopped upon the threshold. The instant he saw my face, he lowered the weapon in his hand and an expression of sadden astonishment swept across his face.

"Gin, it's me, Bucky!" His blue eyes watered slightly, he stepped towards me.

"Stay back or I blow a hole through your friends' head!"

"He's your friend too, Gin!"

"She was in the chair, Barnes!"

The blonde finally wore out my patience and received a sharp whack to the head with the handle of the gun. With him knocked out at my feet, I turned the Thompson to my own head, feeling the cool metal of the barrel rest against my temple.

"Put down the weapon, Gin."

Another man entered the room. I scowled at his uniform seemingly a tribute to the American flag. He possessed no weapon other than a round shield, which he placed on his back whilst approaching me carefully.

"Stop moving or a bullet goes through my head!"

Both men heeded the warning and raised their hands.

"Gin," the man called Barnes called my attention to him directly.

This time I couldn't bear to tear my gaze from his. The emotion blazing in his eyes held me hypnotized. I could've sworn I knew him somehow, except the memories evaded me. There was a warmth in tone when he talked to me – sentiment no one else used when conversing with me, as if I meant something special to this man.

"We're not here to hurt you, we've been searching for you. Don't you remember?"

The two men looked at each other when I merely frowned, sharing a wordless conversation they didn't care to involve me with.

"My name is Bucky Barnes, and this is Steve Rogers. Your name is Genevieve Renard, and you were captured by HYDRA six months ago."

The grasp of the Thompson loosened slightly when I shook my head. "I am a HYDRA agent, have been for as long as I can remember."

"You're definitely not one of them. You're a nurse from Washington D.C, and I know that 'cause we were stationed at the same camp. We were captured together." Bucky cautiously stepped forward. "You were in the cell next to mine, I held your hand through the bars. You remember what I promised?"

I swallowed hard, my index finger hugging the trigger of the Thompson. "I don't remember."

"I promised to spend the rest of my life making you happy. Told you we'd go anywhere you wanted, just pick the place and we'd go." He paused right in front of me, the truth clearly present in the words he spoke to sway me from my purpose.

"You think I'm someone I'm not," I murmured. "I have no memory of you or anything you speak of."

"They did something to make you forget, but if you let me, I'll keep my promise. I'll take you away from all of this."

His gaze was level, direct and honest. I nodded my head towards the machine. "Can you promise I will have no more treatments?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "You come with us, and I promise no one will hurt you ever again." He carefully reached for the Thompson as it lowered. Regardless of my ruthless training, I permitted him to take the weapon away from me.

I exhaled a long sigh, gaze averting to the floor so his partner, Steve could take me by the arm and escort me from the room.

* * *

 _REVIEWS ALWAYS WELCOMED._


	8. Salt in Our Wounds

**CHAPTER EIGHT – Salt in Our Wounds**

The cold knot of knowing clenched tight as I sat gingerly perched on the edge of a wooden chair. My hands grasped my knees, nails digging into the stiff fabric of a new jumpsuit in the unattractive shade of khaki green. Doctors and nurses floated from this concrete room, taking blood – running their tests much like Zola had for as long as I could remember. Their reassuring words didn't reach their eyes, where I saw the fear, shock and wonder about who I was. They appeared to know me as Genevieve Renard, a nurse trained to become a spy, only to wind up captured and held prisoner by HYDRA.

I'd traveled with Bucky, Steve, and the other American soldiers from the HYDRA base to England. Silence overcame me, body stiffly positioned despite the men's kind words and various attempts to make conversation. Bucky searched for a way to always be near me, eyes so blue, intense with emotions I couldn't unravel. Something deep inside me told me I could trust him, but the longer these doctors ran their tests I figured my judgement must've been impaired. I was still a prisoner.

"How are you feeling today, Genevieve?"

I reached for the lone cup of water on the table as a well-mannered woman entered. The British agent called Peggy Carter, explained to me the day before we were friends before my capture. Like Bucky, and Steve, there was something drawing me to trust her, a certain warmth softening me.

The beautiful brunette crossed the room, lowering herself into the chair opposite mine. Her immaculate features had me awkwardly tucking stray bits of hair behind an ear.

"I have a few questions to ask you, and then you'll be taken to your own room upstairs. I'm sure you will appreciate sleeping in a comfortable bed after your long journey." She opened a folder and proceed to set a series of photographs across the table. "I would like you to look at these photographs, all of which were taken across Germany the past few months."

I complied with her request, surprised to discover myself in every single photograph. In each I could've passed for a movie star leaving a less than desirable motel. "What is this?"

"At every location, a high-ranking government official who spoke out against HYDRA was found murdered. Before their deaths, they were seen leaving a local bar or restaurant with you."

My tongue slid over my parched lips. "I-I don't remember any of this."

Flinching as the door abruptly opened, Bucky, dressed in full military uniform entered. Dark shadows gave away his restless sleep, and somehow, I intuitively knew he was here to make sure Peggy's questioning didn't get out of hand. The two proved my train of thought by exchanging a look, but not a word was spoken as he casually leaned against the concrete wall.

"Genevieve, why don't you tell me what you do remember?"

"I…" I awkwardly trailed off, chipping more polish off my nails with my fidgeting. "Before the Americans entered the base, I was in the medical room with Doctor Zola."

"All right, do you know why you were there?"

"I was taken there for a treatment. But I didn't want it this time…Boris tried to force me, h –"

"Who's Boris?" Bucky questioned snappishly, receiving a sharp look from Peggy.

"He was my instructor and took pleasure in taunting me."

"Why didn't you want your treatment?" Peggy pressed.

"I don't know, but I fought with Boris." I looked at Bucky. "The blood you saw in the room was where Boris laid after I caved in his skull."

Bucky shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Shame burned my cheeks to speak proudly of the moment, but I'd only done what my training required.

I turned back to Peggy and gently pushed the photographs of me and various dead men away. "May I leave now? I've done everything asked of me. I would like to rest now."

"In a moment." Peggy gathered the photographs back into the folder, rising from the chair to speak privately with Bucky. Despite lowering their voices to a whisper, I could hear their conversation as clearly as I would right beside them.

"You're not gonna lock her up, are you?"

"She is a potential threat, whether she knows it or not. She just admitting to killing a man without a shred of remorse."

"A man who provoked her! She's no threat, Carter! She's a girl who got caught up in someone else's fight, your fight! She wouldn't be here if it weren't for you!" His anger bubbled over, revealing a fact no one had told me about – they'd all skirted around how I ended up captured, never explaining how a nurse could end up in HYDRA's clutches.

"I feel guilty enough, Sergeant Barnes. But she needs to be monitored, the doctors believe she may have been subjected to electroconvulsive therapy."

"Yeah, we figured. Dugan found her strapped to a chair next to a unit. Those bastards were torturing her, th –"

"They turned her into their own version of Steve, to be used for assassinations, and –"

"-Used her to seduce men," he muttered darkly. "Yeah, I read the reports."

Peggy appeared to ignore his comment, opening another file, and motioning to its contents. "For her safety and everyone else's, she'll be confined to the building. Now, there have been noted cases where prolonged treatment can cause amnesia. She doesn't remember her time in Germany or what exactly happened with HYDRA until you found her. But when you and Steve pressed on past events, she appears to find something vaguely familiar yet is unable to work out why."

"So, her memories might come back?"

"She's unable to tell us how often these treatments occurred, so we may be unable to determine how severe her memory loss is. Perhaps in her case, some of those memories she'll wish not to remember." The two of them glanced at me. "Only time will tell."

"Let me take her to her room?"

Peggy nodded, opening the door, and departing. With the door left open, Bucky flashed me a small smile.

"You ready to get outta here?"

"Yes." I rose from the chair, walking over to follow him from the room. "What becomes of me now?" I questioned quietly.

"Dunno, they might send you home, depends if your memory comes back or not."

"I don't think they will send a HYDRA agent to America; the risk is too great. I do more damage than good –"

Bucky abruptly stopped walking, grabbing my arms so I was forced to look at him. "Look, none of that is your fault. It wasn't you!"

"It was me," I admitted knowing he attempting to convince himself more than me that I wasn't a cold-blooded killer. "They have evidence against me, and I did kill Boris. I wanted to kill him, I enjoyed beating him to death."

Bucky's grasp of my arms instantly released like a shock of electricity parted us. He stepped away, shaking his head, struggling to come to terms with who I was.

"This ain't easy for me, Gin," he sighed roughly, finally looking me in the eye. "To see you like this, to know you don't remember me…" his lips curved into a smile, yet his body language and tone didn't reflect anything remotely happy. "We only had each other for a brief time, but I knew the day I met you, you were something special, like no other girl I'd known before."

"I'm not that girl."

"You are," he protested. "My Gin is in there somewhere, she's stubborn as hell and she'll fight to come back to me."

He sounded confident, but as we continued walking, I began to wonder if Peggy was right, if my memories did come back, would I want to remember them?

-x-

Thunder boomed, and the sky grew dark over a city showing obvious signs of weariness in battle. In my self-imposed exile, the odd soldier would march pass my room, glancing in if the door was open to catch a glimpse of the woman whose past was drenched in blood and death. With the first splatters of rain against the window, a sharp knock at the door made me jump to attention, eyebrows rising suspiciously when the door opened to reveal Bucky.

He ran a confident hand back through his hair, a warm smile curving his lips. "You don't have to stand to attention every time someone enters the room."

"It's a sign of respect." I stared straight ahead at the dull painted wall.

"Well, relax, Gin, you put the rest of us to shame."

Whenever Bucky spoke carefree around me, a small shiver ran down my spine, creating an uncomfortable sensation I couldn't name. I didn't like how my body reacted in general, as if the smallest twitch gave the American some insight into my thinking.

"I have something for you."

My staring contest with the wall broke when he held out some sort of a tin box. "I require nothing from you, Sergeant Barnes."

"It's not mine, it's yours. I figured it might help your memories."

I didn't move. "The doctors are unsure if I will remember anything of my past, proven when Agent Carter informed me that Louie Renard was killed in action. I don't know him –"

"He's your brother," Bucky interrupted, a painful edge to his tone. "And you can lie to yourself all you want. I've seen how you look at Carter, at me. You know us, you're just missing a few pieces."

My throat shuddered with an uncomfortable swallow. "Your confidence holds no sense of reality for me."

He opened the box, removing a worn envelope. He left the tin on the neatly made bed, proceeding to unfold a piece of paper as creased as its envelope. "You wrote me this before you were captured. Told me how you left home 'cause your old man wanted to marry you off, and that your dreams were to see the world. You said you felt like a coward for running away and been trying to make up for it ever since."

A flush of heat burst in my cheeks to hear his words soaked in an honesty I couldn't deny.

"You said you tried to fight what you felt for me, thinking I'd just distract you, but you realized you loved me, the same night I did."

Another bang of thunder jolted my entire body. "What night?" I whispered.

He moved towards me tucking the letter into his shirt pocket. "You thought I was sweet on another nurse. I already liked you, but when I saw how upset you were, I never wanted to make you feel like that ever again. I just wanted to make you happy."

He raised a hand to my face, his touch surprisingly gentle as he brushed away the tear rolling down my cheek.

"What's happening?" The shock sent me stumbling back, hands pawing at my damp face.

"That big, beautiful brain of yours is remembering." He flashed me a small smile. "It's okay –"

"No!" desperate tears spilled down my cheeks, my demeanor keeping an obvious gap between me and Bucky. "Leave! GET OUT!"

My scream brought a couple of soldiers running, weapons raised into the room. Bucky waved them off, backing them up until he could peacefully close the door.

With a heavy heart, I buried my face in my hands, sobbing freely.

-x-

The tin box did nothing for my fragile state of mind. Photographs and letters told of a life I found myself longing to remember. Postcards showed places I'd been, dried flowers were mementos of lost love and Bucky's smiling face was the biggest torment of them all.

When it felt like night and slumber had consumed the building, I quietly rose from my bed, stepping out into the vacant corridor. In the morning I would face my biggest test to date: I would put my skills to test against Captain America himself. the thought of it tore at my insides, assuming he'd been charged with putting me to death for my crimes. I knew in my heart I was a risk to everyone around me. There was no other way for this to end.

Carefully descending a flight of stairs, I counted my steps to where the Howling Commandos slept, having flirted with a soldier to gain access to a map of the building. I'd done so to discover possible escape routes, but now as I passed a certain passage to freedom, I kept walking until I stopped in front of Bucky's assigned room. Deciding not to knock, I quietly entered the room, pitch black due to the black out curtains. I pulled a box of matches I'd stolen from the soldier, striking a match alight.

The sound woke Bucky, jolting upright with a gun in hand. "Gin?"

"You sleep with a gun?"

He sighed, setting it down on his bedside table. "Bad habit," he muttered turning on a lamp and saving my burning fingers. He vainly attempted to flatten his bed hair. "What are you doing here?"

"I…" I trailed off awkwardly.

"Must have a reason." He patted a spot on the bed and I cautiously sat down.

"I have a question, and I need an honest answer."

"I'll do my best."

"Is Steve Rogers going to kill me tomorrow?"

"What?"

I frowned at his surprise. "Isn't that why I have to fight him? They can say it was an accident during a training exercise, rather than an execution."

"No one's gonna kill you, Gin. It's just a stupid test to see if you're like Steve." He reached for my hand. "Has someone said something to you?"

I curtly shock my head.

"Hey," he spoke calmly, giving my hand a squeeze. "Look at me." I fought a weary sigh, meeting his gaze tender in the warm light. "I promise no one's gonna hurt you, they gotta go through me first."

"That's not really much of a fight."

Bucky laughed, his entire face lighting up in delight. "You're killing me, sweetheart, you really are."

I couldn't stop the smile spreading across my face, somewhat content knowing I would survive tomorrow. "I should go." I started rising, only to have Bucky cling to my hand.

"No, stay a bit." His thumb caressed my wrist, lips twitching when we both felt my pulse jump with the intimate touch.

The dizzying effect of his touch made me brash. I leaned in to steal a kiss, meaning to pull away quickly when Bucky's hands cupped my face, keeping me close. He kissed slowly, with an intensity that was almost dreamlike, hands tangling in my loose waves and leaving me breathless when he eventually pulled away.

"You can keep that for luck tomorrow."

I curtly nodded, hastily rising from the bed and making my escape before I lost myself completely to the charming Bucky Barnes.

-x-

I ignored the rough pounding of my heart echoed in my ear, twirling the baton expertly whilst shifting into a battle stance. This might have been a practice, but I would flourish in my natural element. Fighting hand-to-hand or with weapons, it didn't matter, I knew the steps like a well-rehearsed dance. Every step would show grace. Every blow would show the strength of the serum. And the sideway glances from onlookers wouldn't penetrate my concentration. Not even from Bucky, who stood with the other Howling Commandos, arms folded across his chest, stern frown set in place. He'd openly expressed that neither me or Steve had anything to prove. Yet our commanding officers yearned to see how much Zola's serum reflected Erskine's – the only way to discover that, was to pit me and Steve against each other.

Steve on the other hand appeared less confident, worried about fighting a woman. "Are you ready, Gin?"

"Are you?"

He hesitated to make the first move, so I charged. His baton rose seconds before mine collided with his head. He deflected, shoving me backwards so hard I almost tripped over my own feet – graceful went quickly out the window. With mounting rage, I turned on him. Steve matched me blow for blow, the redness in his cheeks mirrored the own burning I felt in my cheeks. I dodged a blow to the arm from his baton, and jerked my knee up in a sharp thrust, catching him in the gut. He grunted, automatically throwing a punch. Ripples of pain exploded across my face, the metallic taste of blood covering my tongue as it licked at the lip wound he'd created. The last time someone wounded me they ended up dead.

"Steve!" Bucky's yell from the sidelines distracted Steve.

I made my move, landing a lucky blow that dazed Steve. A hard kick to the chest sent him stumbling back into the wall, and my baton crammed against his windpipe kept him in place. "Yield," I puffed.

"Not today!"

He replied with a short punch to the kidney, hooked his leg around mine and slammed me to the ground. The knock to the back of my head sent a jolt of pain through me, but I broke his grasp, jumping to my feet. His raised fists lowered slightly when I stumbled, gracefully dodging a punch. His hand grabbed the back of my neck, his strength hurdling my body forward towards the brick wall.

"Oh God!"

The smashing fall left me blinded by my own blood.

"Gin!"

I staggered back from the blow, winching as my fingers dipped into my damp hairline. My blurred vision gradually came into focus, when the throbbing headache kicked into awful clarity. Oddly weakened by the blow, my knees gave out beneath me. A warm embrace caught me seconds before I hit the floor, my gaze lazily lifting to Steve staring down at me. Swarms of thoughts and feelings drifted through the pain until it sent me into a merciful blackout.


	9. Hearts At War

**CHAPTER NINE – Hearts At War**

Darkness cleared into a blinding light, grazing my eyelids with a comforting warmth spreading rapidly down my entire body. The dull throbbing in my head slowed the processing of thought, memories remaining elusive as my eyes studied the simple room. None of the dark stained wooden furnishings gave away who the room belonged too, yet the cozy feel of the single bed seemed to fit me. My fingers rose to my head, tracing the furrowed lines of my forehead until I discovered a large bandage. Sluggishly I drew myself up, attention cast towards the door as it opened, Peggy's tired features morphing into a relieved smile.

"You're awake," she sighed happily. "You had us worried, Genevieve."

"Peg," I murmured throwing off the blankets and swinging my feet over the edge to rest them on the cold floor, cringing as shiver drove up my legs. "Where am I?"

"Where do you think you are?" She carefully perched herself on the edge of the bed beside me. I gently tugged at the constricting pajamas, looking up to find her face betrayed the worry in her tone.

"I don't know. My head feels as if someone has pounded a brick against it, so everything is a bit hazy if I'm honest."

"What is the last thing you remember?"

With a deep inhale and exhale of breath, I fought through the pain in search of a clear memory. "I thought I saw Steve…but I haven't seen him since I left the States." My fingers graced my temples to stop my head from shaking. "Was the mission a success? That's why I'm here, right? You found me at the HYDRA base?"

Peggy swallowed hard, besieged to retain the feeble smile curving her red painted lips. I'd never seen her composure so shaken before, and if my mind were in a clearer state, I probably would've worried.

"Is Bucky here? He was at the base too with a bunch of soldiers from the 107th." I went to slide off the bed, but Peggy's fingers curled around my wrist, halting my actions abruptly.

"Genevieve, you've suffered a concussion, so I think its best for now that the doctors take a look at you before you go anywhere."

"Why? What aren't you telling me?" I searched her face for a clue, an unsettling panic brewing within me the longer she dodged my questions. "Is Bucky okay? You found him too, right? He's here somewhere, right?" I shook off her grasp. "Tell me he's okay."

"He's okay, he and other soldiers were rescued. But right now, I need you to rest while I fetch the doctor. We will talk afterwards, I promise."

Uncomfortable and unsatisfied with her response, I remained seated against my better judgement, watching as she rose and departed the room in haste.

-x-

My mind wouldn't allow me peace, not after the bizarre couple of days I'd endured. Long into the night I laid awake in my single bed, going over every tiny detail I could remember, and even grasping images I couldn't quite believe were mine. Instead of tolerating the thoughts and dwelling on the unknown, I slid out of bed, dressing into an SSR issued jumpsuit before escaping the room.

An unusual sense of calm enfolded the corridors in the early hours of the morning. No busting feet or shuffling of papers echoed off the brick walls, but I discovered a couple of agents in the communications room as I passed, manning the radios. Either way, I found myself walking undisturbed down to the file room in the bunker, where once alone I combed through dozens of papers – my personnel file saturated with revealing photographs, transcribed conversations and medical reports.

Peggy probably shouldn't have told me where to find it. I didn't need to beg for information, she offered it freely, distinguishing the sudden desire to discover my past with HYDRA, a past she personally told me about. Nausea crept up on me when recalling Peggy's explanation of how I'd spent the past few months of my life. No one dared speculate if twenty-three years of memories would return, but from what I'd heard, I didn't want to remember the actions of betraying the country I now called home. Nevertheless, the unseen benefit was, Steve would forever have my gratitude for sending me head first into a brick wall – fracturing HYDRA's conditioning and liberating me.

"You gotta stop this, Gin."

My head snapped up almost brutally at the sound of Bucky's voice. So, consumed with my thoughts, I hadn't heard him approach. Some super-soldier I was when distracted. I glanced at the clock on the wall, discovering it was almost dawn. The early hour reflected in Bucky's tired features, yet somehow, I realized my fate, and my past were the heaviest burden on his mind.

"Bucky! How did you know I was here?" I hastily put various bits of paper and photographs back into the box, throwing the lid down on the unholy exploits doing my short reign as a HYDRA agent.

"Carter told me you've been asking questions," he glimpsed around the small square room, crowded floor to ceiling with shelves stocked with file boxes. "She's worried 'bout you, she doesn't think you're coping. And you've been avoiding me."

The hurt in his tone reflected the invisible barrier between us. To be with him now, after everything that transpired should've been the ultimate feeling of bliss. We were alive, we were safe, and yet the depression hanging like an obvious cloud over my head couldn't be denied any longer. My friends sought to be supportive, constantly lingering with a cheerful remark or a pat on the back when I passed the relentless tests set by Colonel Philips. But what I really craved was peace, a quiet moment alone to rearrange my thoughts and figure where I belonged after so much chaos.

"Look, when I haven't been locked away in the infirmary being poked and prodded, I'm sparing with grunts and shooting paper targets. That doesn't leave much time for socializing." I shoved the box onto a shelf between several others.

"I tried to see you, didn't they tell you?"

"They told me." I exhaled a shaky breath. "I only asked for Peggy."

"What?"

His pain and mine tangled brutally, stabbing at my very core where silly romantic fantasies once bloomed like a ripe flower in spring. All those dreams shattered the second Zola's needle entered my flesh sending his serum coursing through my veins. Whatever was left of Genevieve Renard was a meager shell of her former self.

I slowly turned to face Bucky, a mask of indifference plastered upon my face as I leaned against the cool metal of the shelf. "You're wrong, I wasn't avoiding you, I chose not to see you. I didn't think it wise to have you see me in that setting and be reminded of what happened at the HYDRA base."

"You didn't think I could handle it?" He frowned accusingly.

"It was a traumatic experi –"

"Yeah, I was there, I remember what went down," Bucky snapped. "I know what you're doing and it ain't gonna work." He didn't even bother to hide his anger, embracing it as if it finally allowed himself to embrace the feeling. "Don't push me away, not now…not when you know me."

"Do you know me? Were you told about my time with HYDRA?"

"I got the short ugly version."

"When not locked in a windowless cell, I was forced to do hours of combat training, bruises forming upon bruises, blood oozing from…anywhere possible until I was the one leaving bodies in my wake. Treatments, so they were called, had me strapped into a chair so they could scramble my mind. Sometimes I think they did it on purpose, just see the effect, but it usually happened after missions though. You heard about my missions, right?"

Bucky's jaw clenched in reply, his body awkwardly twitching as he obviously fought through what he'd learnt. God knows I wish I could forget the feeling of a stranger's hand roaming my body.

"I was instructed in seduction techniques, taught how to charm, caress…please a man's most intimate desires –"

"- Stop it!" He shook his head, covering the space between us to brace his hands against the shelf, trapping me in between. An emotional hurricane brewed within his blue eyes. He wrestled against the rage of what happened and the love he had for me. "You don't need to explain none of it to me."

"I am a one-woman wreaking ball!"

"That's not you! You didn't know what you were doing!"

"But I did it," I remarked calmly. "And there is so much more than the SSR know, things that happened to me that I…" I cut myself off, shamefully staring at the ground.

He swore under his breath, banging his hands against the shelf.

"You have to let me go, Bucky." I murmured softly finding a shred of courage to look him in the eye. "I will only end up hurting you because I can't give you what you want."

"Don't say that."

"I am beyond damaged goods, Bucky, you don't want me as I am now." I reached for his face, cupping his handsome face in my hands to stop him from shaking his head. "Please," I whispered, defeated the longer he stubbornly held onto me. "Let me go, leave me in the past and find someone you can have a life with."

"Not happening, sweetheart." He shifted his head against my palm, kissing the skin. "I made you a promise, remember? No war, no super soldier serum changes how I feel 'bout you."

My hands abruptly fell. "Fine, maybe this will change your mind. They're seriously considering sending me into the field."

My words achieved the desired effect, Bucky moved away. "No."

"Intel suggests my HYDRA cover is still intact, and I know Zola would give anything to have me back. Colonel Philips believes I could be an asset undercover, gain information directly from the source."

"No!" His staunch reply barely left room for argument. "I just got you back, and you wanna run behind enemy lines again? What is wrong with you? Do you have a death wish?"

I awkwardly shrunk back against the shelf, his words slapping the bravado straight out of me. Even after learning about my unspeakable crimes, he wasn't prepared to give up on me. On us. He hadn't even begun to realize the devastation stemming from the fateful day we were captured. If it weren't bad enough to have my memories stolen, and be used as HYDRA's personal assassin, they'd taken away any sort of future Bucky and I might have salvaged by destroying my womb.

"The field is where I belong now," I admitted watching his features scrunch up in various shades of anger. "I'm trained for combat. I've heard what people say behind my backs, I see how they look at me and I know I'll never be regarded with the same awe, and respect as Steve."

"What is it with you two?" He snapped unkindly. "You both think you've got something to prove!"

"Don't I?"

Releasing an angered breath in a long sigh, he stomped towards me, grabbing my face to hold my attention. "No, you ain't got nothing to prove, Gin. Can't you just be the nurse I met in Italy?"

I braced my hands against his chest, fingers desperately clutching handfuls of his wrinkled army shirt. "I told you, she's gone, and I'm all that's left."

"And I love you, anyway, doesn't that count for anything?"

I rested my forehead against his, hands rising to his neck where my thumbs brushed against his unshaven face. For a silent moment I finally found the peace I longed for.

"Whatever comes next, we'll figured it out together, okay?"

"Even if it means me going into the field?"

"If you wanna be in the field, then it's gonna be with me and Steve having your back."

"Do you really mean that?"

His answer came in the form of a kiss, arms enfolding my body to press me tightly against him. His kiss chased away all my doubt and fear for the time being, allowing a warmth I hadn't felt with anyone else to spread through my body. His kiss lingered after his lips left mine, arms holding me in a safe cocoon.

"Take me back to your room."

He read my face, frowning slightly. "Are you sure?"

"I love you, James Barnes."

He was everything I wanted, found in an unexpected place in a time where love was the last thing on my mind. He'd found me. He'd stood by my side in unwavering loyalty, and no matter how hard I wanted to push him away, I knew finally in this moment there was no one else in this world for me. Bucky was my other half, a piece of me I hadn't known I was missing.

He smiled, taking my hand as we left together.

* * *

 _[December 1944]_

Bucky's reluctance to see me in the field didn't stretch as far as he'd hope. Most saw the advantage of my skills and were happy to have me on the Allied side. Fitting in with the Howling Commandos was effortless due to the short period we'd been imprisoned together, they never expected me to be anything but myself. Half-heartedly, I felt at ease, fulfilling a purpose so long held within me could be freed. Bucky's anxiety decreased a couple of months into my induction into the team. He gave me space to follow Steve's orders, putting my newfound skills to use in various ways that no doubt impressed and scared the rest of them. Even my skills as a nurse were put to good use, reminding me that I was so much more than a weapon.

"What are you writing?"

The dark inked pen lifted from the page of the worn notebook. My thoughts spilled heavily upon the pages, detailing life on the road throughout Europe. I looked up as Bucky approached with rifle slung over a shoulder. He paused before the small fire I'd made, running a hand back through his hair before warming his hands.

"It's just a journal, my doctor suggested it might be helpful in my recovery."

"Do I get to read it?"

With a playful smile, I shook my head. "I think I tell you more than enough, let me have some secrets to myself."

"I have no secrets from you." He boasted.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. "I'm pretty sure Steve was telling me the other day about some brunette you took to the Worlds Fair, you ended up leaving with her and her friend."

A satisfying blush settled over his face. "Well, in my defense I didn't know you then."

I laughed, shoving the journal into my rucksack and then rose from the log. "I bet they were no match for your charms. I bet James Barnes would give 'ol Errol Flynn a run for his money."

My gaze drifted to the other side of the abandoned cottage where Dugan and Monty were cleaning their weapons. The rest of the boys suffered through a light flurry of snow, their boots crunching as they circled the building to keep warm.

I should relieve Morita, otherwise all we'll hear about is his freezing limbs again."

"Not yet, he can wait a minute." My spirits lifted as his arms slid around my waist, drawing me against his chest. "Besides, you know I don't sleep too good when you're not beside me."

"I happen to know you sleep fine no matter where you are, your snoring battle with Dugan keeps me up. You're the one who should be labelled a weapon."

Bucky chuckled, "Be safe out there."

"And you get some sleep."

He planted a light kiss against my lips.

"I will wake you at dawn," I promised kissing him once more before tearing myself from his embrace and heading out into the icy chill.

-x-

"Just heard from base command," Steve announcement drew us away from our breakfast. "They've intercepted a HYDRA communication, we know where Zola's gonna be."

Bucky and I exchanged a glance, nervous butterflies filling my stomach. Losing my appetite all together, I carefully set my plate down and began braiding my ponytail just to distract my fingers from their trembling.

"What about Schmidt?" Bucky voiced the question lingering on my lips. My fear chased it away, his bravery holding the both of us up.

"No word on him. If we get Zola that's a big win," Steve replied picking up his shield to set it on his back. "Let's pack up and move on, we should make it to base by sundown."

"Jolly good, I've been looking forward to a bath al week," Monty chirped happily.

"Smells like it." Dugan muttered into his cup beside me.

I quietly went about my business, prudently packing things for the continuing journey through Europe. Even Bucky's familiar footsteps didn't hinder the process. His eyes burned into my back, piercing my soul twisted in various stages of confused anger.

"Don't look at me like that," I muttered knowingly.

"You okay, sweetheart?"

"I'm not sure." My fingers trembled, the clasp on the rucksack jingling the only confirmation Bucky needed. He came up beside me, gently shifting my hands aside to close the bag for me. "I know Zola is responsible for turning me into what I am. I know he stood by and watched as my mind was tampered with, but I also remember his kindn –"

"Gin don't do this to yourself." I frowned up at him. "Don't make excuses for the man. He'll pay for what he's done."

"If I don't have compassion, does that not make me as bad as the enemy?"

Bucky raised a hand, brushing a loose lock of hair behind an ear. "Me and Steve talked, we think you should head back to London, we'll bring Zola in."

"You're worried I'll compromise the mission?"

He curtly nodded, sliding his arm around my neck to draw me against him. My head rested comfortably in the crook of his neck, where I could inhale his scent deeply to store away in my memory for when we parted. I saw the reasoning in sending me away, I didn't know how I would react if I found myself before Zola. Would compassion be my downfall, or my rage?

"Steve's arranging for transport when we get to camp. You should be back in London in a few days." Bucky's lips fluttered against my forehead as he spoke.

"I'll miss you," I admitted, his lips curved in reply.

"Aren't you sick of me yet?"

"You have the rest of our lives to get on my nerves." I leaned back against his arm, staring up into the blue eyes I adored. "I want to get married when you get back to London," I blurted.

"Really?" His eyes shined with amusement.

"I'm not joking." He studied my face for a long moment. "You asked me once if my father would allow us to marry…well, he'd say no, but I say yes."

"You don't wanna wait till the war's over?"

"God knows when that will be. I love you, James Barnes, and nothing would make me happier than to be your wife."

"Okay," he sighed happily, bringing his hands to cup my cheeks. "If that's what you want, can you get everything ready?"

I nodded, relief flooding through my entire body. "I'll get Peggy to help me, she'll be my maid of honor."

"So, you can fix her and Steve up?"

"Don't pretend you don't know something's between them." I reached up to kiss him. "Can we tell the boys? A party will boost their spirits, Gods knows, we could all use the chance to let our hair down."

"Okay, lead the way, Mrs. Barnes." He gently pushed me towards the door, grabbing my rucksack as we left to join the rest of the group waiting outside.


	10. One Last Time

**CHAPTER TEN – One Last Time**

 _[January 1945]_

"Gin."

I lowered the pen, a board smile stretching my lips to see Steve. He wasn't in his Captain America uniform, but in full military dress. Something wasn't quite right, my smile faded to notice the red, puffy skin around his bloodshot blue eyes. He nervously ran a hand back through his neatly combed blonde hair, clearing his throat.

"Steve…" I trailed off, rising from the chair. He couldn't bring himself to look me in the eye. "What's happened?"

"Buck…" he lightly shook his head, the emotion choking him and stealing the words I didn't necessarily need to hear. The misery finally broke through his fragile control, and I started shaking my head.

"No," I whispered, hot tears forming. "Please, no…not Bucky. Steve…no!"

"I couldn't save him," Steve mumbled numbly. "I tried, but I couldn't save him."

I braced a trembling hand against the table, a chill spreading through my body and it had nothing to do with the winter weather. Misery clung to me, soaking into every pore to claim me as its own. After everything we'd been through, and how hard we'd fought to stay together, it seemed cruel to have the love of my life ripped from me.

My throat swelled, wanting to release a scream, alert the world to my agony, but it only came out as a strangled sob. Steve came to my side, wrapping his arms around me, even though I fought, knocking hard fists into his board chest. Every blow felt like a moment I'd lost with Bucky, the seconds I should've held him longer, kissed him, whispered all my hopes and dreams for our life together. It was all gone.

"You should've saved him! You should've…" Overwhelmed with the aching sorrow and blinded by tears I collapsed into Steve.

He offered no words, unable to cope with his own grief. He simply held me tightly against him as we crumbled to the floor in shared mourning.

-x-

Tuffs of paper flew up as bullets ripped effortlessly through several targets, spent blank shells ejecting in a clattering of steel rain. Footsteps approached behind me as I reloaded a selection of guns on the table before me.

"Would you consider coming to work for me?"

I glanced sideways as Howard Stark appeared beside me, a charming smirk plastered upon his good-looking features, and dressed in an expensive suit which almost appeared out of place within the convinces of the army bunker. "I don't want to be your secretary, Howard," I replied flatly.

"I was thinking you could be my personal bodyguard," he grinned wickedly, and I couldn't help but laugh, the tension in my shoulders relaxing with his effortless icebreaker. "You'd be perfect, Gin, no one would ever suspect you until it was too late."

"I appreciate the offer, maybe I'll consider it after the war's over." I reached for a Bowie knife, the dome light overhead catching the sharp edge. A dozen bloody images breezed through my mind – slicing the blade through flesh, screams of pain: all of which seemed a satisfying thought if I were to come up against a HYDRA soldier.

"You weren't at the debriefing this morning," Howard commented.

"I'm in no mood for politics or planning operations, all I need to know is where Schmidt is, and can I get close enough to put a bullet in his head."

"Sorry, kid, you're a flight risk."

With violent force, the bowie knife ended up deeply rooted in the table. "What do you mean by flight risk?"

Howard's concerned had him leaning away from me, struggling to look me in the eye with the knife set between us. "You've been through the ringer lately, there's no saying what you'll do when you get your hands on someone HYDRA related."

"Did Steve put you up to this?"

"He's worried about you, kid, we all are." He sounded genuinely concerned, no hint of sarcasm or amused laced his tone.

I swallowed the vile words lingering on my tongue, violent urges created within my haze of grief had me grabbing Howard by his shirt, a surprised yelp leaving his lips as his feet left the floor. "Listen here, Stark, you are going to tell Steve, and anyone else who asks that I am just fine. I will handle myself in the field, and I will damn well take down as many HYDRA soldiers that see fit to get in my way. Do I make myself clear?"

Howard rapidly nodded and I dropped him back to his feet. He awkwardly ran a hand back through his hair, flashing a feeble smile. "How about we have dinner tonight?"

I sighed, "Howard., no"

"Too soon?"

"It will never happen."

"Well, the job offer still stands if you want it. I'll go and find Rogers, tell him he owes me a new suit."

I turned back to the firing range with a small smile. I admired his bravery and concern he and Steve shared. It was obvious to anyone who looked at me the raw wound in my heart demanded revenge. HYDRA robbed everything I held dear, now revenge was the only thing left and I reveled in its white-hot fury.

* * *

 _[March 1945 – Swiss Alps]_

Lingering with Peggy on the edge of the dense forest, an eerie sense of an anticipation loitered whilst we loaded and rechecked our weapons. She favored a rifle whereas I preferred two small handguns, and Howard's improved Bowie knife, sitting snug in a sheath attached to my ankle. I'd learnt rather quickly I enjoyed handling a blade over firing a gun – it also caused the guilt to rise, because the more I trained, the rapidly I learnt I knew far more than what the senior SSR agents were teaching me.

I gently positioned a couple of grenades in my utility belt, not feeling any nerves about the approaching battle. I'd been to this dance before, and knew the steps by heart, except this time I vowed not to be taken alive if captured. I wouldn't let Bucky's death be in vain. I owed him that much.

"Gin?"

Glancing up from securing my belt, Steve marched towards me, fully kitted out in his Captain America uniform. The sight roused the soldiers around us, stirring the courage within them. I could only smile at the memory of our first meeting in a secret base in Brooklyn. It seemed such a long time ago, a different life where our childhood illusions led us to a place to be changed forever.

"Steve, do you want to go over the plan again?"

"No," he kindly took my elbow and led me to a quiet space out of earshot from the crowd. He pulled off his helmet, but his blue eyes struggled to look at me. "I know I suggested you should come along, but maybe you should hang back," he stated quietly.

"If you're worried about my mental state, don't be. I'm more focused than I've ever been, and nothing is going to stop me from putting a bullet in Schmidt's head."

"Leave Schmidt to me, I need you to stop his soldiers from taking out our men."

"That's not fair, Steve!"

"Bucky would agree with me."

Fists clenched in fury, I fought the urge to punch his perfect teeth from his mouth.

"Don't blame yourself for what happened."

"Openly at least, keep it inside like you do." His jaw clenched stubbornly. "You don't think I know you blame yourself for his death? He chose to go with you because you were his friend, he trusted you and I don't think he would regret his choice, not for one damn second."

"So, we agree to disagree, then?"

"Like normal."

"Well, I found this with his things yesterday." Steve rummaged in his pocket, pulling a gloved hand out to reveal a gold band ring with a traditional diamond set on top. "It belongs to you."

Another shred of my resolve slipped away as I reached for the ring, studying its simple perfection with a lump in my throat. "I didn't know he had a ring."

"He got it after I found him at the HYDRA base, said he wouldn't give up until he found you safe."

I merely nodded, blinking furiously through the dampness forming at the corners of my eyes.

"He loved you, Gin. Don't think he's ever fallen so hard for a girl before."

I looked up at him. "Promise after all this is over, we'll still be friends?"

"Course we will."

Steve stiffened when I embraced him tightly, only to relaxed seconds later. He sweetly kissed the top of my head, releasing me to walk back to his motorcycle. I secured the engagement ring on the necklace holding my mother's locket, hiding it under my shirt as Steve drove off into the forest to embrace the biggest battle of our lives.

-x-

Shoving the empty pistol back into the holster, I snatched the Bowie knife in my ankle sheath. My arm flew up from my side, the blade reflecting the neon lights above seconds before it slid across the delicate skin of the nearest HYDRA soldier's neck. Crimson blood leaked from the open crevasse as I spun gracefully around the falling body to take out my next victim. I didn't feel anything for these poor souls, blindly following the orders of a madman. I was once nothing more than a pawn, my life worth as much as theirs but knew if I didn't kill them, they'd do worse to me.

"Agent Renard!"

A short gust of air passed my lips, puffing up strands of loose hair falling around my face. Feeling a presence behind me, I glanced over my shoulder to discover Colonel Phillips surveying the scene of destruction. At least twenty dead soldiers lingered along the corridor before me.

"I think they're all dead, soldier."

"Good," I muttered bending down to wipe my blade on the soldier lying at my feet, and then returned it to the sheath. "Where is Captain Rogers?"

"He managed to board Schmidt's aircraft. We're trying to contact him on the radio." He waved me over raising his eyebrows whilst I rubbed my bloodied hands against my pants. "I think we can confirm this as a sign Zola's serum has made you one hell of a soldier."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"I think it makes you very valuable to our side, especially for future missions. We could use your skills if you still want to serve your country."

"You know I'll be the first to volunteer, sir," I replied following him to a communications room where Peggy sat before a microphone, talking quietly into it. "What's going on?"

 _"…there's not gonna be a safe landing, but I can try and force it down."_

Steve's voice came through the system loud and clear. The shocking truth slapped me as wide eyes met Colonel Phillips', his grim features confirming the horrifying truth I'd heard.

"I'll get Howard on the line. He'll know what to do."

 _"There's not enough time!"_

Sadness weighed heavily on me as I went to stand behind Peggy.

 _"This thing's moving too fast and it's heading for New York. I gotta put her in the water."_

"Don't do this, we have time. We can work it out." She pleaded in vain, all of us recognizing Steve was following the only path left available to him. He would be selfless to the very end.

 _"Right now, I'm in the middle of nowhere. If I wait any longer a lot of people are gonna die. This is my choice, Peggy."_ Peggy glimpsed miserably up at me, my heart beating roughly in my chest. I would've given anything to save her from the devastation about to destroy her. _"Peggy?"_

"I'm here."

 _"I'm gonna need a rain check on that dance."_

"All right, a week, next Saturday at the Stork Club."

The open wound created by my own grief, fractured even more as I listened to Steve's final conversation. He'd gone beyond risking his life, to giving it fully so the rest of us could have a future. I instinctively rested a hand upon Peggy's shoulder, letting her know I was right there beside her. It was my turn to be the supportive pillar, to save her from drowning in the grief to follow as she had done for both me and Steve.

 _"You got it."_

"Eight o'clock on the dot. Don't you dare be late. Understood?"

 _"Y'know, I still don't know how to dance."_

"I'll show you how, just be there," she pleaded sadly.

 _"We'll have the band play something slow. I'd hate to step on your…"_

The quiet hiss of static cut through Steve's reply. I closed my eyes briefly, saying a silent prayer.

"Steve? Steve?"

Peggy desperately grasped the microphone until the tightened flesh of her knuckles turned ghostly white. I took the gamble to pry her hand away as her trusty, durable defensives crumbled away like ash from burning wood. There was no hesitation to take her in my arms, holding her close when the emotions imploded. My whispered words into her hair wouldn't console her breaking heart. I wanted nothing more than for this to be a cruel nightmare, to wake up at any moment.

Yet the radio static continued to buzz; Steve was gone.

* * *

 _[May 1945 – London, England]_

"Must you leave? You haven't said where you're off too."

I continued to pack my suitcase even though Peggy's voice filled the room. Celebrations continued in the streets outside, genuine happiness spreading amongst the masses with the announcement of Germany's defeat. Finally, the war was over. Now came the mammoth task of rebuilding, in more ways than one.

"There's still work to be done, I've had no shortage of offers."

"You can't save the entire world, Genevieve." Peggy's heels tapped loudly as she crossed the room, coming to a stop beside me.

"No, but I can bury myself in work." I replied curtly, reaching for my faithful tin box. I held it tightly in my grasp, chin trembling as I flicked the lid open to reveal a photograph of me and Bucky. Grief inhabited every part of my being, twisting my emotions into the shadows where hope no longer lingered. Snapping the tin closed, I carefully hid it beneath a sweater and closed the suitcase.

"Will you at least stay for a drink? Stark's buying," her cheery tone didn't match her eyes when I faced her. A weariness lingered around her eyes, a certain sadness that would forever be present. The dreary room only enhanced our depression.

"I can't, I have a flight to catch this evening."

"So that's what you were talking to Colonel Philips about?"

I curtly nodded, unable to fight back a small smile. "My first covert mission, to Japan of all places."

"Sounds exciting."

"What will you do now the war's over?"

"I don't know, go wherever I'm needed I suppose." She pondered the thought. I believed she was good enough to fight alongside me, rather than hidden away in an office filing reports. The stunning brunette didn't need to prove herself to me, after all she'd trained me, turning a nurse into an agent.

"Promise you'll stay in touch?"

"Of course, I will. You're not getting rid of me that easily."

I reached for her, wrapping my arms around my friend, much like I did the last day I saw Steve. After everything we'd lost, I struggled with the thought of losing Peggy, she was the only one brave enough to keep me in line with the truth.

"Be safe out there," she murmured as we parted holding each other's hands for a long moment.

"I will. Next time, drinks are on me."

"You've got a deal." She beamed as I grabbed my suitcase, following her from the room to embrace the next journey.


	11. Resurrection

**Worlds Apart: Part 2**

 **CHAPTER ELEVEN – Resurrection**

 _[December 1990 – Moscow, Russia]_

Neon colored hues bathed various walls of a dingy Russian strip club, whilst soft rumbled tones of techno music vibrated through various speakers. Half-naked women coated in body glitter and cheap perfume appeared everywhere, dancing seductively for male guests they anticipated would secure them a few dollars. Tonight, I acted as one of them. A pixie styled, black-haired wig hid my usual brunette waves, and I reluctantly wore a skimpy, glittery outfit to blend in with the rest of young women. My scantily clad body swayed while my hazel eyes, revealed only through a simple silver mask scrutinized the club for my target.

As if on cue, a firm male voice filtered through my earpiece. _"_ _Target acquired._ _"_

I shifted my attention towards a small table in a dim lit corner where my partner, Jon Ewell studied the patrons of the club.

" _No sign of the asset though, my dear Widow Maker._ _"_

"Unlike the brutes he hires for muscle, he won't be caught in the open. We have to use his men against them, which shouldn't be too difficult."

" _The man is a ghost –_ _"_

"I don't like the doubt in your tone, Ewell, where's your courage?" I smirked waving my fingers in the attractive brunette's direction.

" _Courage is the last thing on my mind in a place like this._ _"_

"Eyes on the prize, Ewell."

" _They are. No wonder they call you a Widow Maker, I'm having heart palpitations._ _"_ He grinned knowingly, raising his glass at me.

A short eye roll of disapproval made my partner of three years' chuckle. I refocused on the target of our mission briefing. "I'm moving towards Popov to intercept."

" _Copy that._ _"_

I hopped off the illuminated platform, walking graciously as realistically possible in a pair of killer stilettos through the crowd towards the VIP booth. Behind the velvet rope a muscular Russian sat with a handful of his men, all equally sporting Mafia tattoos and commanding an air of arrogance. The targets harden features mirrored those of someone who'd spent their entire life amongst the hardship and brutality of the criminal underworld. He nursed a shot of vodka, surveying the girls on display but not apparently interested until I emerged from within the crowd. One smile and he gestured for me to approach.

He rose from the velvet-covered couch, securing a strong arm around my waist the moment we met. "You are beautiful," he murmured huskily.

"And you look like a man who takes care of business." I tiptoed my fingers along his shirt buttons, the other brushing back through his thinning black hair.

"You are not Russian, no?"

" _Thank you, Captain Obvious,_ _"_ Ewell stated darkly. _"_ _No wonder the asset only uses him as the muscle, there_ _'_ _s not much going on upstairs._ _"_

"I'm American, is that a problem?"

He shook his head with a grin when I pressed myself against him, gazing up at him through my fake eyelashes. "I like American girls, very much."

" _Loose women and straight vodka are a quick way to a shallow grave._ _"_

I ignored Ewell's commentary, focusing on the task of seducing the Russian.

"Then you are in for a treat, darling." I flirted reaching up to place a kiss against the corner of his mouth, turning my head abruptly when he tried for a full-on kiss. I playfully shook my head at him. "Good things come to those who wait." I took his hand, leading him through the crowd to the back of the club where the private rooms for lap dances were located.

" _His men are occupied with the girls for the time being,_ _"_ Ewell informed me. _"_ _Do you really need to be that forward with him?_ _"_

I located an empty room and led Popov inside, giggling whilst shoving him into the chair. He got comfortable, licking his lips when I began to dance for him.

It never got any easier. No matter how many times I pretended to enjoy the company of the men I needed to exploit, I hated every second of it. Seduction and flattery were typically the most effective method to obtain information and land another completed mission into my file. Thus, proving my value to the Security Council overseeing the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division – the spy agency known as S.H.I.E.L.D.

I flashed Popov a smirk, moving behind him and combing my hands through his hair. He hummed with content, so completely lost in the moment he couldn't fight off the chokehold I put him in. In vain, he struggled to free himself from my grip, probably surprised by the strength.

"Where is the asset?"

He swore at me in Russian. A slight adjustment of my arm and his Adam's apple jerked roughly as he strained for a decent breath.

"If I have to ask again, I will dismantle you from joint to joint." I replied in Russian.

The threatening manner of my tone should've been all he needed to be convinced of the truth. I held no remorse for men like him, knowing another was there to fill the void.

"Kronshtadt!" Popov gasped.

"St. Petersburg?" My grasp loosened slightly so he could nod.

"He is leaving there…tonight! But I not know where! Please, he will kill me for talking!"

"Oh, darling," I cooed softly. "You will have no more worries after tonight."

With a sharp twist of his head, the loud snap of his neck breaking filled the room. I exhaled an angered breath, stepping away from the body to press a finger to my earpiece.

"Ewell notify the Director that the asset is in Kronshtadt. He's apparently leaving there tonight so I need a Quinjet fueled and ready to depart ASAP."

" _Copy that. What do I tell him about Popov?_ _"_

"Tell him he's been taken care of." I patted down Popov discovering his wallet in his pant pocket but nothing worthy of note. There was also a gun strapped to his ankle, which I felt no guilt in taking to log in as evidence when I finally returned to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters in Washington D.C. "I'll change in the car and meet up with you."

" _Why bother? You_ _'_ _d make a good distraction,_ _"_ Ewell chuckled.

"Unlike you, the asset isn't affected by female wyes." I slipped out of the room unnoticed, heading for the back entrance and the black sedan parked across the street. I tugged off the wig and tossed it aside.

" _You almost sound impressed._ _"_

"Just because he uses his skills for the opposing side, doesn't mean I don't respect him." I grabbed a plastic bag from the glove compartment, dropping Popov's gun inside. I left it sitting on the passenger seat and reached for my usual work attire waiting on the back seat. "He's a soldier who follows the orders he's given; he would've been known as a hero in a past life."

" _Well in this life, he_ _'_ _s wanted for all the wrong reasons. And if I was any sort of a decent man, I_ _'_ _d be jealous by the tone you use while talking about him._ _"_

"Call me when my Quinjet is ready." I sighed and removed the earpiece.

Disregarding Ewell's obvious flirtations was easier than enduring the tiresome discussion of explaining why I didn't get romantically involved with other agents – apart from the fact it only complicated missions, it was of no interest to me. Instinctively I reached for the silver locket hanging from the rearview mirror, and the diamond engagement ring attached to it. I clutched them securely in my hand. They were a constant reminder of what I'd lost and why I fought so hard for S.H.I.E.L.D. And while there was one less bad guy in the world, the ghost known as the Winter Soldier still ran free.

A shadow approaching in the rearview mirror caught my attention. My trip down memory lane compromising my reaction time and forcing me to cover my head as the window exploded around me. I blindly grasped for the Russian's gun when a hard hand seized my head, something cool and metal like clutching strands of brown hair before unceremoniously slamming my head against the steering wheel until my body went limp.

-x-

My throat rumbled with a groan when I woke with an instant throb in the front of my head. I lightly shook my head to clear my blurred vision but only succeeded in making my headache worse. There was no way of knowing how much time passed, and the strange feeling in my stomach suddenly felt like a bottomless pit. Air thick with a damp, musty stench did nothing for my nausea. From what I could make out in the dim light emitting from the single bulb hanging above me, I was confined in some sort of a concrete room and strapped to a chair with a piece of crude rope burning against my flesh with every movement.

"Hello?" I croaked, my vocal cords scratching together like two pieces of sandpaper. My tongue rolled over my parched lips, tasting the coppery twang of blood. "Hello? Is anyone there?"

I released a long sigh glancing down at my stripper outfit discovering it covered in a light layer of dirt and splotches of dried blood. "Well, this is uncomfortably familiar," I muttered, struggling to recall the events that led me here. I remembered leaving the strip club, talking to Jon before the sedan window was smashed in.

A door slid open in front of me allowing light to flood into the empty space around me, confirming I was in a vacant room. I heard the distance murmur of voices and then the musical tapping of high heels belonging to the female silhouette now walking towards me. Something snapped, and a single fiery flame danced seemingly in mid-air, I couldn't see much of the face behind it, but I inhaled the cigarette smoke that followed.

"It is such an honor to be in the presence of the illustrious Widow Maker, the rare orchid of S.H.I.E.L.D. Truly, I am impressed my man was able to take you down as easily as he did."

I strained myself while listening to the softly spoken English accent, trying to place the face that might've been from my long and varied espionage career. "You seem to know me, but you're obviously not important enough to get on my radar."

"And there is that famous wit I've heard so much about. Tell me, Widow, were you so witty in the company of Doctor Zola?"

A cloud of cigarette smoke enclosed me as the light above me gradually revealed a petite dark-haired woman with the most dazzling green colored eyes I'd ever seen. She wore a navy dress that clung to her figure and plain black high heels. Her wavy hair the color of black ink was loose, framing her masculine facial features. However, I still had no idea who she was or more importantly, what she required from me.

"What do you know of Zola?"

"I know you were his greatest creation."

I rolled my eyes. "Zola was nothing more than a slave to Johann Schmidt, a tool to be used until he was of no use."

The woman sucked the end of the cigarette making the end glow. "Maybe, but you cannot deny his serum has worked wonders on you. You look rather fetching for someone born in 1920," she dropped the cigarette and rubbed it out with the toe of her high heel. She leant forward, brushing her fingers along my jaw causing a handful of shivers to tumble along my spine. "The serum running through your veins is one of the prized secrets of the world. Who wouldn't want to look young and beautiful forever?"

"I appreciate the compliment, but I'm not attracted to women, especially crazy ones."

"I don't want this to turn messy, Widow. Therefore, you are going to tell me everything filling that pretty little head of yours. And if you think you'll be brave and not say a word, I have various ways I would enjoy seeing you withstand. Even then, if you believe that to be the worst possible outcome then you are sadly mistaken because I intend to harvest your blood and organs to learn the secret of the super soldier serum, so if that means you're still alive during the process…then so be it."

My throat shuddered to see her vicious words reflected in her eyes; she was unapologetic for her words and determined to get what she wanted no matter the cost. She was emotionless and calculating – the worse sort of criminal to deal with.

"I'm not afraid of some British tart with a death wish."

"I'm not the one who is going to die."

"I've heard that before as well, and every last one of those people saw my face before they died."

Her jaw clenched, and she raised a hand, indicating to slap me. Her actions paused midflight however by a brusque male voice.

"That's enough."

She straightened, releasing a weary sigh. She glanced back over a shoulder as the man appeared in the doorway; I didn't need to see his face – his voice haunted my dreams, as did the promises we made to each other. My tempest of regret emerged from within the shadows.

"No..." The single word escaped my lips laced with genuine scared disbelief. My bound hands wriggled whilst the former Sergeant James "Bucky" Barnes walked towards me.

Nonetheless, it appeared the charming Brooklyn native I'd fallen for during the war was long gone. This staunch soldier before me was outfitted head to toe in black combat gear, armed with various weapons. A governed look was present on his face and it made my stomach twist nervously. There was no spark of life within his blue eyes. A purpose greater than himself drove him.

"No, it can't be…that's not possible…you're meant to be dead!" I snapped at him.

"Don't tell me the two of you are already acquainted?"

"I don't know her," he stated resolutely in English.

"You're the asset? The Winter Soldier?" I questioned, and Iris nodded gleefully. I hung my head as the first handful of tears released from the corners of my eyes.

"If you thought I sounded cruel, then the asset will certainly give a new meaning to the word. He has some creative methods of obtaining information; it truly is an art form."

He stepped forward and roughly grabbed my chin, tilting my head back slightly so he could brush his thumb across my damp cheek. My lips parted, recalling the night he'd done the same thing at the camp in Italy –warmth lingered in his touch then, a loving look in his eye as if I were the only girl in the world. He lowered his hand to my mother's locket, grasping it as he gave it a short tug to rip it from around my neck. He flicked it open and the skin between his eyebrows pinched together upon discovering the photo of him during the war.

"I thought you were dead, Bucky," my tears were met by Iris' sigh of annoyance. "All these years I thought…"

His emotionless eyes glimpsed at me as he snapped the locket closed and shoved the heirloom and his ring into a pocket. He didn't speak, stepping aside without any sort of recognition of who I was to him. I started squirming again the instant Iris produced a syringe from a small leather bag I hadn't noticed before now.

"Hold her still. I don't want to puncture one of her precious veins before due time."

"NO!"

Bucky marched round behind me, enfolding his arms around me in an awkward bear hug. That's when I noticed the metal fingers on his left hand and the superior strength of that arm was the main anchor. Iris placed a strap around my bicep, tightening it before delicately brushing her fingers over my veins. She smiled upon sticking me with the needle. I could only flinch as it pierced my flesh, looking down at the vial filling rapidly with my serum-tainted blood.

"You won't get away with this!" I hissed unable to break Bucky's hold.

This was a situation I'd hoped never to be in ever again. Held against my will, the unknown beckoning like a blinding light I couldn't avoid. To be powerless was a fear worse than death.

"We'll see about that."

I spat at her. Iris didn't take too kindly to my reaction, finally getting her chance to smack me across the mouth. She roughly ripped the needle from my vein. Bucky released me without a word, following Iris towards the door but I spoke up again.

"Your name is James Buchanan Barnes!" He froze before the opened door, taking a long moment before he glimpsed back over his shoulder at me. "You're from Brooklyn, New York and we met in Italy 1943. You promised me that no one like her would hurt me ever again! YOU PROMISED ME, BUCKY!" I screamed hatefully.

"I think I'm going to vomit." Iris remarked coldly and slid the door closed.


	12. Dead Lovers Lane

**CHAPTER TWELVE – Dead Lovers Lane**

I must have dozed off at some point, unable to keep my eyes open any longer after spending what felt like hours staring at the door, waiting for Bucky or his bitch; Iris to reappear and do God knows what to me. When my eyelids eventually fluttered open, I was surprised to encounter Bucky standing before me.

I inwardly groaned, shifting in my seat to prop myself straight against the back of the chair. "Come back to make good on Iris' promise? Show me torture the likes I've never seen before?"

He didn't flinch at the scorn in my tone, merely frowned, allowing the silence of the room enfold us. I couldn't quite read his expression; it almost appeared as if he was studying me, trying to remember who I was and what I meant to him. As much as I wanted to convince myself that my Bucky Barnes was alive, whatever was left was hidden beneath years of Russian KGB brainwashing. I knew the Winter Soldier file better than anyone. I'd been tracking him for years only to find he always disappeared right under my nose in various locations around the world. I knew this soldier was devoted to one cause and that was whatever his government told him to be. This man before me was as mechanical as the arm they'd attached to him.

"Well, come on then! Show me what you're made of, show me –"

He swung his bionic arm out, his tightly clenched fist connecting with my nose before I could appropriately brace myself. The force knocked me off the chair. A short cry parted my lips as I landed hard against the concrete floor. It'd been many years since anyone disarmed me with a single punch. His power was something similar to being hit by a freight train.

"Christ…" I muttered rolling onto my back and staring up at him. "I guess I deserved that."

He reached for my arm, effortlessly hauling me onto my feet.

"What happened to you?" I whispered ignoring the wet, hot blood oozing from my nose to stare at him as the pieces of the puzzle began to merge in my head. "I wasn't the only one Zola experimented on, was I? He did something to you while we were at the base…is that how you survived the fall –"

"Shut up!"

He grabbed the Gerber Mark combat knife from the sheath attached to his hip, instantly silencing the questions lingering on my tongue. He bent down to cut the rope around my ankles before doing the same with the rope binding my hands. He firmly held onto my arm, keeping me at his side as we walked out of the room. He led me along a corridor, passing several unmarked closed doors. Everything was painted an uncomforting off-white with the odd direction sign hanging from the ceiling. If I had to speculate my location, I would've thought it was an abandoned hospital – the confirmation didn't soothe my apprehension as I remembered Iris' taunt to harvest my organs.

Bucky pushed his way through a pair of swinging doors, revealing a handful of armed guards. Their conversation muted to watch as Bucky tugged me up a flight of stairs, disappearing around a corner and into another corridor.

"Where are you taking me? What are you going to do to me?"

He stopped abruptly before a closed door, glancing at me as he opened it, revealing a room. There was a small, made up double bed squished in one corner and a toilet bowl positioned on the opposite wall. Between the two was a single barred window, allowing sunlight to stream in and make me squint after being held in near darkness for so long. Bucky roughly pushed me in and closed the door behind me without a word. I stood motionless, listening as a secure bolt was locked in place. I'd traded one cell for another.

I searched the room top to bottom and found nothing of use to aid in an escape. They'd obviously cleared it out before hand, not wanting to give me any excuse to fight back or escape – they wanted me isolated. I sat down on the edge of the bed, reaching for the nearest pillow so I could strip off the slipcover. I ripped the material into equal strips and then held a piece to my broken nose.

For the first time, in a long time, I felt truly alone. Usually I kept my emotions at bay by immersing myself in work, because of my solid work ethic there was constantly a new mission waiting for me.

After being captured by HYDRA in late 1943, the Army listed me as MIA and ever since that had been my official status. It kept my family and friends protected – not that it mattered much these days as they'd all, apart from my younger sister passed on. I may have lost my blood relatives, but the Starks and the Carter's always welcomed me. Howard, Peggy, and I remained in touch over the long years, even when they stopped fighting wars and ventured into other projects, we were family, I was even godmother to Howard's only child. I would've given anything to be with them right now or at least find a way to break through Bucky's mind-altering awareness. I'd found the missing part of my life, and he didn't know me.

-x-

Darkness had fallen by the time the door opened again, revealing Bucky. He didn't say anything as he entered the room, closing the door behind him.

"You know me?" He probed.

I nodded slowly climbing off the bed, licking my lips as I steadied myself. I'd let him have the first punch as a freebie, but I wouldn't be caught off guard again, even if it cost me my life, I would go down swinging.

"I don't know you."

"From what I know you've been programmed for one cause. Destruction."

He stomped forward, grabbing me by my arms, shoving me roughly back against the wall so my head narrowly missed hitting the window frame. The force knocked the wind out of me. Stray pieces of brown hair fluttered around my face as I harshly puffed out a breath.

"How do you know me?"

"I told you before, we met in Italy."

"In 1943?"

"World War Two, you were with the 107th and I was a nurse."

"No."

"Yes," I retorted as his hands instantly released me. He started shaking his head, but I continued to talk knowing how fragile the fragments of memories could be. The slightest feeling of familiarity could trigger the Russians conditioning to falter, allowing Bucky some clarity.

"We were captured by HYDRA and experimented on. I was injected with Zola's version of super-soldier serum. We were held together with other allied soldiers, you told me you loved me while we were there, that you wanted to marry me. That ring with my locket is the engagement ring you brought me. We were meant to be married after the Zola mission, but you fell from the train."

He looked up at me, a torment of emotion brewing within his gaze. I reached for his hand, making him step away from me. He didn't remove his hand from my grasp. I walked right up to him, raising my other hand to his face, tracing the handsome features unaged in the long years we'd been parted.

"Widow –"

"My name is Genevieve Renard."

"I don't remember."

"If we leave, we can figure it out, together. I know people –"

"No!" He violently ripped his hand from mine, backing up towards the door. "Don't play games with me!"

"I was like you once. I had no control over my body or mind, I was ordered to kill people…brutally. I didn't care about anything but the mission they gave me. But I got free…you found me. My memories came back in time. The same could happen to you if you let me help you."

I swallowed the lump rapidly forming in my throat. I didn't want to appear weak before him, just hearing his voice had thrown me off my game. I couldn't think straight; my mind was flooded with memories of our short time together and the dreams I wish we could've made come true.

"I don't think I can go through losing you again, Bucky," I admitted miserably. "As dramatic as it sounds, I don't know if I can survive the heartbreak again."

"That wasn't me."

"I know. That's what hurts me the most."

"You're not my mission, Widow. I'll be back tomorrow night. Be ready," he stated and turned on his heel, marching out of the room, making me jump slightly when the lock was secured once again.

Nothing was resolved, and I didn't know what to expect if he kept his word and showed up again.


	13. The Funeral of Hearts

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN –The Funeral of Hearts**

The second time I encountered Iris, her snarky banter was cut off when I abruptly threw myself at her, knocking us both to the ground. Her two-armed guards attempted to pull me off her, but I effortlessly overpowered them, smiling when I disabled them by breaking bones. Listening to their painful cries however, alerted Bucky. He marched into the room, a sense of purpose written clearly on his face. I readied myself for a fight, yet his cool metal fingers curled around my throat, enfolding my pulse, and squeezing until I gasped for a breath. My feet dangled helplessly above the floor, my hands clawing hopelessly at Bucky's arms while Iris stuck me with a needle, stealing more blood.

"Why must you make everything so difficult, Widow? I am trying to create a better world. A world where only super soldiers exist, at least ones like the dear asset here," she stated replacing a full vial with an empty one. "Through you, a new race of soldiers will be created. War will spread to your precious homeland and a true leader will emerge!"

Bucky cast a glance in her direction and his moment of distraction gave me the break I desired. I threw my fist forward, ramming my knuckles into his chest to wind him. His mechanical fingers instantly released my throat. I bent down, stealing a Derringer from one of his holsters, impulsively pulling the trigger. Iris' wounded cry echoed through the room. I'd only succeeded in shooting her in the shoulder because I planned to interrogate the bitch first.

Bucky glared darkly at me, snatching the Derringer from my hand and shot Iris clean through the head. My eyes widened in astonishment, watching her body fall limp to the ground beside her men who Bucky took care of next.

"Bucky! I needed her to find out more information about her plans!" Bucky ignored me grabbing the vials of blood and stashing them into a pocket in his pants. "I think you'll find those belong to me."

He chambered another round and handed the Derringer to me. "It's time."

I hopped over Iris' body, still silently fuming that I hadn't learnt further information –she wasn't the mastermind behind a super soldier army. God knows I'd heard the idea pop up quite a bit over the years. I shadowed Bucky from the room, stalking his movement through the hospital until we entered a vacant kitchen. He seized a broom from nearby and shoved it through the handles of the door, bending the metal as if it were made of silk, locking us within. I moved over to the back entrance, peering out through a small crack when I opened it to find there were no guards.

"Where is everyone?"

"I took care of them," he stated frankly.

"Of course, you did," I muttered shoving the Derringer into his chest, forcing him to take the weapon.

We slipped out into the cold night, dashing across the overgrown, dewy grass towards the barbed wire fence separating us from the lush forest. Bucky pulled out a pair of wire cutters, creating a hole in the fence big enough for the two of us to pass through one at a time. I glanced back over my shoulder as we entered the forest; if he was true to his word, no one would follow us. I had unwittingly already placed my faith in the man I was sent to obtain, kill if necessary.

We trekked in silence. My bare feet became numb from the bitter chill, but I wouldn't complain. I was too lost within my thoughts anyway. We moved swiftly without disturbing the environment or talking, until I tripped over a root and instinctively reached for Bucky. He stopped abruptly, glancing down at where my hands grasped his metal arm for support.

"I promise I'm usually more graceful than this." I quickly released his arm.

"I know of your reputation." He marched on ahead, not speaking again until we entered a clearing where a lone, battered taxi sat. "The keys are in the ignition. The city is forty miles north of here." He pointed to the only track leading out of the clearing.

"What about you?"

"I have my mission."

"Who cares about bloody missions! Come with me, Bucky!" I begged, searching his face for the moment the light bulb switched on in his brain.

"Here," he delved a hand into his pocket and pulled out the vials of blood. "I took care of the other samples."

"Why?" I mumbled, bitterly accepting them, and carefully sliding them into my own pant pocket.

"Orders."

"Orders," I muttered darkly. "That is exactly how we got to this point." I reached for his hand, hopelessly clinging to his warmth. "Please, come back to the States with me. I won't let anyone hurt you, we'll find a way to restore your memories, to get your life back."

He stood staunchly and silently, almost as if he possessed no words to contribute to the conversation. He'd already turned down the idea, but I hoped my badgering was getting through somewhere in his head. I dropped his hand, grabbing his face as I reached up to kiss him. His soft lips didn't return my kiss and I pulled away, watching his brow furrow.

He backed away from me and motioned to the taxi. "Go."

"It doesn't have to end like this –" He lowered a hand to his hip holster, flicking off the safety guard. "Fine, I'm going but I won't give up on you James Barnes, you were always the brightest part of my life."

I stomped over to the taxi, throwing the door open, and climbed in, chewing on my bottom lip as I started the engine. I refused to look back at Bucky, pressing my foot against the accelerator, steering the taxi from the clearing. I made the decision in that moment that I would never tell a soul about the Winter Soldier's identity. He would remain a ghost, forever lingering in my heart.

-x-

A curt flash of my badge and I gained access into the remote warehouse on the outskirts of Moscow. Pulling off my woolen beanie and mittens, I marched across the large room to where a small task force had been set up. I'd driven all the way into the city heading to a parking lot where I dumped the taxi and called for backup via a payphone. Agent Nick Fury located me personally, taking me to the warehouse where I was debriefed. I remained true to my vow, never mentioning Bucky.

I discovered the tall, African American dressed in a suit standing before a group of agents set behind computer equipment and tables concealed in maps and surveillance photos. The agent in charge stiffened as I approached.

"You're meant to be at the safe house, Agent Renard." He clasped his hands behind his back as we both stubbornly stared ahead.

"I could only handle staring at the wall for so long, is there an update?"

"We located the hospital via the Intel you provided. We found fifteen dead Russian soldiers and a woman, whose identity matched one Iris Austin, wanted by Interpol for various reasons, the latest being the abduction of an English geneticist. That supports what you told us about her looking into the super soldier serum."

"She wanted an army of super soldiers. I don't believe for a second that she was the instigator though, merely a middleman."

"That may be, but we won't know for sure because all our witness' are dead."

A weary sigh slipped from my lips as I looked up at him. "I only killed two of the men, and I shot Iris in the shoulder. I don't know what happened to the rest; I just wanted to get the hell of there while I was still in one functioning piece!"

"I've got a team sweeping the building for anything they might have left behind. I want you to take a couple of weeks –"

"I've never taken leave, Fury," I scoffed. "There hasn't been a single war I've been absent from or a mission I've declined. All I have is my work, and this concerns me personally. They targeted me because of what Zola injected into me forty-six years ago!"

"That is exactly why I don't want you anywhere near this investigation. I know you struggle with following orders, but I'm in charge of this operation and you are dismissed, Agent Renard!" He waved to Ewell who was lingering nearby. "Ewell will escort you to the airstrip where there's a Quinjet waiting, the pilot will take you wherever you want to go. Director Keller doesn't expect to see you reporting for duty until the New Year."

I found myself in an argument I couldn't win, so I curtly nodded my head, following my partner from the warehouse. I roughly tugged on my mittens and then pulled my beanie on over my loose brown waves, fighting against the bitterness of my thoughts rather than the cold.

"He's only looking out for you, Widow."

"Don't start with me, Ewell, I've been doing this longer than both of you, but as usual some man doesn't believe I can handle myself."

Ewell reached for my elbow, the burly agent keeping me at his side as he abruptly paused. My gaze remained fixed on the Quinjet ahead, listening as the pilot engaged the startup sequence. My mind raced through possible destinations were the Winter Soldier could be hiding, but none standing out as a clear favorite.

"What really happened at that hospital?"

"Some bitch threatened to kill me. I don't take too kindly to when people do that, and now Fury has dismissed me. What the hell am I meant to do for a month?"

His free hand rose to my chin, gently lifting it so I was required to meet his intense blue eyes. His lips curved into a smile probably used to disarm the strongest willed woman. Yet I felt hollow, unbalanced emotionally since discovering Bucky alive. Nothing else seemed important now that lie had been uncovered.

"I know I nice hotel in the South of France, it's secluded, especially this time of ye –"

"No," I pulled my arm from his grasp, compelling a smile to curve my lips to save his feelings for the sake of our partnership. "On second thoughts, I know exactly where to spend my free time. I'll see you in a few weeks." I headed towards the Quinjet, boarding, and unzipped my jacket as I walked towards the pilot.

"Where too, Agent Renard?"

"Home…Washington D.C," I replied and headed back to take my seat, buckling myself in for the trip home where the one person I trusted could set me back on the right track.

-x-

 _[Georgetown –Washington D.C.]_

Peggy Carter lived in a nice apartment, located on the first floor of a building in Georgetown, Washington. My dear friend moved there within the past year after losing her husband; he was a soldier with the 107th, a comrade of Bucky's and saved by Steve during the war. I'd been a proud maid of honor at their wedding, and subsequently present at the birth of their two children who I considered my niece and nephew.

Photographs lined up along the fireplace mantel portrayed smiling faces of her family from various birthdays and holidays aboard. Proudly alongside them was one of us with Howard – taken the day the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division officially started operating out of an old SSR office. Like the photographs I owned, it was discolored and wrinkled at the corners, showing the age of time that didn't reflect in my features. Hearing Peggy enter the room from behind, I glanced back over a shoulder, still seeing the beautiful woman I'd met all those years ago.

"It's hard to believe your children have their own families now, seems like yesterday they were running circles around us." I accepted the tray from her hands and set it down on the coffee table, preparing us each a cup of tea while she got comfortable in her armchair. "Can you believe Tony will be twenty-one soon?"

"Time does seem to fly," she smiled fondly, fiddling with her pearl necklace.

"Sometimes more slowly than I'd like it too."

"What brings you here, Genevieve?" I handed her a cup and saucer suppressing a sigh. The woman was sharp; her agent skills never dull despite her age. "You never drop by unannounced unless something is troubling you."

"Director Keller's put me on leave. He doesn't want me back on duty until the New Year."

"Did something happen?"

I carelessly splashed some milk into my tea, perching myself on the edge of the couch. "I was captured during a recent mission," her eyes widened slightly, and I lightly shook my head. "I'm okay; it was only for a couple of days. They wanted my blood, so they could study the formula to Zola's serum."

"Honestly, you think people would be over it by now," Peggy sighed.

"You'd think so, but obviously, someone wants to get their hands on me. Afterwards though, it got me thinking about Steve." I cast a sideways glance at Peggy watching as her eyebrows rose in surprise.

"What about Steve?"

"I know we usually avoid talking about him and Bucky, but have you ever wondered what may be in the serum?"

"I don't understand what you mean?" She set her tea aside regarding me suspiciously.

"We know it has the ability to enhance all the usual human senses, reflexes, mental processes and speed up healing after injury. In my case aging has slowed dramatically, so I have to wonder how else it could affect someone."

"I don't like where this path is leading you, Genevieve. We have been through every scenario and the outcome is always the same. I don't believe we will ever know what happened to that aircraft or Steve for that matter. You need to stop torturing yourself with what ifs."

"Peg, I have been in some…difficult situations over the years, suffering injuries that would kill anyone else. What if Steve did take Schmidt's aircraft down, and he survived it –"

" – No!" Peggy jumped up, the horror causing her to wildly shake her head.

Guilt spread throughout me to bring up a touchy subject. My intent wasn't to hurt, merely express the thoughts buzzing around my head – discovering Bucky alive unlocked old wounds and left me with more questions than answers. Tucking strands of hair behind my pierced ears, I exhaled a small sigh.

"I'm sorry, Peg."

"Whatever you may think you know about the serum doesn't change the fact that Steve and James are dead. We can't go back, Genevieve," she stated sadly. "You have to move on with your life."

"Peg –"

" – No," she shook her head coming to sit beside me. "You have spent the better part of your life fighting to protect everyone. Now let me tell you, there will always be someone to fight, someone to protect, and you alone cannot win." She reached for my hand, willing me with her eyes and every fiber in her body to make me see reason. "You have so much more to give, and the chance to live a full life that doesn't require you risking life and limb lies outside if you want it."

Our fingers tangled in a tight lock, and half-heartedly nodded in agreement to save us from entering an argument that would potentially fracture our friendship. "So, how does a secret agent live in the real world?" I flashed her a small smile.

"Well, for starters I think a family dinner would do you some good, you are looking rather thin."

"Christmas dinner with all the trimmings?" Peggy nodded seemingly pleased with my response, but in the back of my mind where secrets dwelled, there was no way I could just forget Bucky was alive. He existed in my world, flesh, and blood, and within reach if I could just find him.


	14. The Kiss of Dawn

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN** **–** **The Kiss of Dawn**

Perhaps Fury had been right all along; taking time off wasn't such an inconvenience after all. I spent my vacation time with Peggy mostly, she took me Christmas shopping and out to dinner –it felt strange to be doing something so mundane rather than traveling the world and undergoing missions. Peggy brought me a small fake fir tree, accompanying me back to my quarters to dress the space with Christmas decorations. Her festive mood was contagious, and it lifted my spirits somewhat to distract the depressing thoughts about Bucky being alive and the constant ache in my chest. It was usually after missions, when I'd be alone in my lodgings at headquarters that the loneliness would creep in around me. I would question whether I'd chosen the right path or not, whether I was making a difference in the world or whether I should pack it all in for a simpler and peaceful life.

After sharing a rowdy dinner with Peggy and her family, I left them singing carols, and enjoying umpteenth mulled wines to take a cab back to headquarters. We passed recognizable postcard marvels on the way. Similar sights greeted me in 1938, when I first arrived in the city, I now called home. Ever since returning from my mission though I'd been driven into combing through the archives, endeavoring to find every scrap of information about Steve and Schmidt's aircraft –I even went as far as to call Howard, interrupting his demanding work schedule. And like Peggy, he was convinced I was just tormenting myself. There was no evidence to suggest Steve survived the crash or even if there was a crash as the wreckage was never recovered.

The moment the cab screeched to a halt outside the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division building, I handed a few notes to the driver and departed the cab, hugging my overcoat tightly against my dark green dress as a light snowfall flurried about me. I headed straight to the agents' lodgings, moving automatically and without being aware of my surroundings. I unlocked the door of my assigned apartment, leisurely unbuttoning my overcoat as I entered.

I kicked the door closed and slipped out of my high heels, walking over to the kitchen where I left my purse on the counter. I smiled fondly at the potted fir tree, clogged with fairy lights picked by Peggy's niece. "How is she always right?" I remarked aloud to myself.

Running a hand back through my hair I headed to the bathroom, taking a long hot shower. I kept the warmth in by enfolding myself in a flannel robe, walking out of the bathroom while untangling the ends of my hair with a hand. My bare, damp feet sunk into the lush carpet as I walked over to the bed, flicking on the bedside lamp before perching myself upon it, retrieving my tin box from the bedside table.

The metal was cool to the touch and worn from time. Hidden within were precious memories. A small smile formed as I opened it, discovering one of the few photographs I possessed of me and Bucky during our short-lived romance. This one taped to the inner lid, my favorite, as while I was smiling for the camera, Bucky was looking me. A wondering look that reminded me of the old Errol Flynn movies I still loved. I hadn't opened the tin in over six months, so consumed with work. Now in the tranquility of my quarters I could spread these memories around my bed and take a trip back in time.

-x-

I woke with a start, blinking rapidly as my eyes adjusted to the dim light emitting from the bedside lamp. Sirens howled through the night, progressing further away while my racing heart calmed. It was only then I heard the patterned curtains attached to the nearby window flap. An icy breeze caught the material puffing it up like a lady's skirt. I gently tucked a hand beneath my pillow. My fingers brushed against the Walther PPK, curling around the handle. I withdrew it as I gradually sat up, my semi dry hair falling around my face. There was a feeling in my gut –empty like a bottomless pit that warned me something wasn't right, and I recognized exactly what it was.

"You made a mistake in coming here." I spoke calmly in Russian, raising the Walther with one hand while the other hastily packed my letters and photographs into the tin.

"You know it's me?"

A shiver ran down my spine as Bucky's voice replied in Russian.

"Only you would be so bold as to break into a government facility." My tongue slid over my parched lips, eyes darting around and lingering upon the shadowy corners until he finally emerged. "What are you doing here?"

Bucky walked confidently towards me, oddly dressed in plain civilian clothes and his brown hair hidden beneath a black baseball cap. He paused in the light and raised a hand. I instinctively rested my index finger against the trigger, holding my breath until something delicate and shiny dangled from his grasp.

"My locket," I whispered and scooted to the edge of the bed. I reached for it, only for Bucky to hold it back. "Give it to me! You had no right to take it from me!"

"The photo…it's us."

"Yes, it was taken while we were stationed together in Europe."

"And the ring?"

"The engagement ring you brought for me," I replied quietly, ignoring the dull thud of my heart beating roughly in my chest. "You'll never know what losing you did to me."

He didn't respond but extended his hand to me, allowing my necklace to slip from his grasp and fall into my awaiting hand. I glanced at it and the ring for a moment before setting them on the bed next to the Walther.

"Are you here to kill me?"

"I don't have to be."

My lips parted, yet there were no more words to say. I was speechless as his last five words revealed everything I needed to know. At some point, we would face off, one would have to kill the other and I found myself staring at the floor in solemn reflection. How could I kill the man I loved?

I jumped somewhat when his cool, metal fingers gently rested beneath my chin, lifting it so I was forced to look up at him as he knelt before me. My gaze began to blur the longer he studied me, and I wasn't entirely prepared for the moment he covered the space between us and kissed me. I couldn't deny similar scenarios went through my head the last time we were together. I wanted him to remember me, to remember Steve and his life before HYDRA stole everything. I finally understood what he'd went through when my memories of him were lost.

His lips lingered against mine, parting slowly and then pressing more firmly. My body betrayed me, starved of attention I pulled off his baseball cap, running my fingers through his growing hair. Bucky eased me back against the bed, tearing my robe slightly as he pulled the tie free to reveal the delicate nightgown. Sighing softly, his lips found their way to my neck. His fingertips caressing my skin, gradually tiptoeing up my thigh.

"Bucky," I whispered his name only to be shattered by clarity. Ignoring the tight pain in my chest I held him back. "I can't do this; you're not my Bucky."

"Does it matter?"

"I'm not desperate enough to delude myself into believing you are." I uncoiled my arms from around his neck, missing his warmth instantly.

"I thought you were stronger than this."

"I was," I admitted. "Seeing you in Russia made me remember who I was, what I lost…I can't go back but I don't have to give in either. If you're going to kill me, just do it already. I think I've lived a life to be proud of, one people will remember me for."

Immobile beneath him, I willed him with my eyes to do whatever his mission commanded. His metal fingers slid over my skin, drawing the fear from within as they powerfully curled around my throat. The cold grasp of certain death enclosed against my pulse, squeezing, adding more pressure until I gasped. My lungs fought to function, and I instinctively grasped at the arm, but Bucky appeared unfazed, staring into my hazel eyes.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

My heartfelt words seemingly sunk in to whatever emotion lingered within him. His moment of vulnerability gave me a break. Throwing my fist forward, I rammed my knuckles into his stomach. The abrupt force winded him. His mechanical fingers released my throat and I snatched the Walther, lining up the kill shot as a deep grumble vibrated in his throat.

"Tin man has a heart after all," I remarked unkindly. "Like I said, I don't have to give in, and I never will. I will fight until my very last breath."

"You can't kill me."

"No, but you always forget, I was a nurse."

As much as it grieved my heart to commit the act, I pulled the trigger. Changing my line of shot, the bullet grazed his arm. His eyes widened and the moment he stepped towards me, another shot rang out, this bullet ripping through the material of his shirts to enter his stomach. It was messy, but survivable if he got help relevantly soon.

"You've got two minutes, maybe three before agents break down the door."

Bucky held his stomach, gritting his teeth as he bolted for the window, jumping out and disappearing into the night. Four agents stormed into the room with gusto moments later. The main lights went on revealing Ewell leading the charge. He saw me perched awkwardly on the edge of the bed, my weapon loosely held in my hand, and he holstered his weapon rushing to my aid.

"Widow! Are you okay?"

"I'm okay…the window," I muttered somewhat absentmindedly.

The other agents went to investigate as Ewell gently took the Walther from my grasp, placing it aside. "What the hell happened?"

"I would have thought it was obvious."

Ewell softly reached for my chin, titling my head back so he could inspect my neck. His cool, calloused fingertips traced my neck, lingering on a couple of places where I guessed Bucky's mechanical fingers had left their mark. Not surprisingly as he'd come close to crushing my windpipe. Trusting that Bucky still had a shred of humanity left in him was a risk, but one I was willing to take to prove that somewhere buried beneath the layers of a cold bloodied killer was the true Bucky Barnes.

"I'll call medi –"

"No," I lightly brushed Ewell's hand away. "I'm okay, Jon, really."

"Who attacked you?"

I debated whether to tell the truth or not. Either way it wouldn't matter. The Winter Soldier was a ghost –it took me a decade before I even came face to face with him, the chance of it ever happening again after this incident was rare.

"The Winter Soldier," I finally spoke up. "He must have been waiting for me when I came back, I didn't hear anything. He came to kill me. I didn't have a clean shot, but he's wounded and we both knew the noise would alert someone."

"He wouldn't want to be captured by us, especially me." Ewell's menacing tone matched the flash of vengeance in his eyes. I placed a hand on his shoulder, smiling feebly. "Are you sure you're not hurt?"

"I'll be fine, I always am."

Ewell reached for my hand and drew it from his shoulder, holding it tightly in his grasp instead. "You don't have to be so strong all the time, even if you are a super soldier. No one will think any less of you 'cause you act human."

It was nice to hear him say that, nevertheless, I only truly felt like myself in Peggy's company –she knew me and what I'd been through better than anyone did. I managed to keep the small smile on my face as I curtly nodded my head. "You should call the Director; he'll want a full report on tonight's events."

Ewell nodded and reluctantly released my hand. He rose to his feet and made his way over to the telephone. I sighed, glancing at my where my tin box and locket still sat and then at the open window. Would I ever see Bucky again?


	15. When Love and Death Embrace

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN –** **When Love and Death Embrace**

[December 1991 –New York]

The cold winter rain pounded against the stain-glass windows while I sat silently in the pew positioned in front of the polished caskets. Each one draped in white roses and cleverly arranged wreaths. The priests' monotone voice washed over me, his prayers unable to console the depression hovering like a dark cloud, over not only my head but also everyone else's. No matter how much death I saw, I never got used to it – I mourned as if it were the first time.

I didn't recall the blur of moments and emotions from the past week, strangely I felt as if I was lingering in the morning when Fury turned up at my quarters, interrupting the sparring match with my trusty boxing bag. The grim look plastered upon his face was unlike any emotion I'd seen him possess before, so I'd acknowledged something serious occurred and listened silently as he explained Howard and Maria Stark were dead – killed in a car accident. The reaction was instant. I threw my fist out, connecting it so brutally against the bag that it flew off its stand and halfway across the room. Fury only just managed to catch me in his arms the moment my knees gave out beneath me.

When I opened my eyes, the memory faded and my right hand grasped the left, the edges of the diamond engagement ring marking my flesh. After Bucky disappeared and any trace of him vanished, it was months before I could bring myself to wear the ring once again. My tie to him felt like a burden, and I couldn't bring myself to join in the hunt for him. No one would find him, not until he wanted to be.

The large gathering of mourners from all social classes rose from the pews, collecting their jackets and umbrellas to battle against the gloomy weather outside. Twelve men from Stark Industries and The Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division stood beside the caskets, each taking a handle to lift them off their perch.

My hands ran over the simple black dress I wore, smoothing out the wrinkles I failed to iron out the day before. I tugged on my tweed jacket, slipping the big round buttons through the holes, glancing at Peggy who watched me vigilantly. Nevertheless, I turned to my godson Tony, who'd sat stiffly beside me through the entire service. His dark brown eyes stared straight ahead seemingly blank of any emotion. The twenty-one-year-old man hadn't spoken to anyone in days and wallowed in a drunken haze in a hotel room downtown. My attempts to intervene were unsuccessful, I longed to hold him in my arms, cradle him as I did when he was a child.

"Tony…it's time," I murmured resting my hand upon his shoulder, startling him. He looked up at me and lightly shook his head.

"I'm staying here."

"I want you to come and stay with me for a while, I don't think you should be alone," I stated seeing Maria's features present in his face, but his brain was hardwired like Howard's. He was a master flirt and brilliant engineer. I loved him as if he was my own son. Yet, couldn't help him when he needed me most. I longed to take his pain away, even if it meant adding it to my own.

"I don't need a babysitter, Gin."

"Will you at least give me some peace of mind and call me later?"

"You know I won't," he mumbled staring ahead as his parents' caskets were gradually carried pass us.

"Fine, I'll call you then." I planted a lingering kiss on his forehead, lightly running a hand through his hair as I'd done when he was younger and couldn't relax, something about my touch soothed him. He closed his eyes briefly. "You mean the world to me, kid. I love you."

"Ditto."

I pulled away and reached for Peggy's elbow, walking alongside her as we followed the caskets from the church. "How do I help him through this? I'm afraid if I leave him alone, he'll drink himself into an early grave," I remarked quietly.

"By being there for him. That's why Howard asked you to be his godmother." We looked at each other but I was the only one frowning. "He knew you would always be around to keep an eye on Tony, Genevieve, and that you would love him as if he were your own. We all knew how much you sacrificed to be a part of this life, and we could never truly understand how it must have felt to watch us move on with our lives –"

"Peggy –"

"Let me finish," she stated. "I know I was the reason you ended up in Europe, the reason you were captured by HYDRA. I have never forgiven myself for that –"

"It was my choice, Peg. And no one knew any of that was going to happen, even if I did, I still think I would've chosen the same path. You are my best friend, and I love you…even if you age and I'm forced to look this good forever." We both smiled for the first time all day. "I wouldn't be who I am today without you or Howard."

"So, we didn't ruin your life?"

I shook my head and kissed her cheek as we left the church. "You became my family; I don't think I could've asked for anything more than that."

The mourners enclosed the precisely dug out holes. The rain continued to fall in thick drops, splashing dirt upon my shoes and soaking my hair. I swallowed hard, as the caskets were lowered into their new homes and additional flowers thrown by those whimpering and sobbing for the loss of the two-cherished people. I looked away from the earthy holes, glancing at Peggy. She gently pressed a tissue to the corner of her brown eyes, while the other held an umbrella over her head. She caught my gaze and managed a feeble smile. I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave them a small squeeze. It was a minor comfort to recognize we only had each other.

-x-

Peggy and I left the service early, deciding to venture to a café located near the church, claiming a table in a quiet corner and some hot coffee. Despite the loved ones and coworkers, we'd lost over the years, neither of us much enjoyed funerals –I especially loathed the hanging about afterwards, talking about the "good times". I preferred to grieve on my own with a bottle of bourbon, a nasty habit I'd picked up while serving with the Howling Commandos.

"It was a lovely service," Peggy commented, unclipping her hair so the grey streaked waves cascaded around her face.

"It was beautiful," I agreed gently pushing the sugar canister towards her.

"Are you still thinking about Tony?"

I grasped the hot cup with both hands, consenting the heat to flow into my skin and chase away the winter coldness clinging to my very being. I couldn't wait to get home and have a real bath, drown myself in the warmth while listening to music played on my old gramophone. It was one of my prized processions as Howard had given it to me.

"He'll call me if he needs me. I was thinking if the police would hand over their reports to me, I want to…" I trailed off when I caught Peggy's stare. Those deep pools of liquid truth burned into me. "Do you believe it was an accident?"

"There is no evidence to suggest it was anything else."

"Peg, we've all made our fair share of enemies, Howard especially. Remember when he wanted to buy out certain companies but couldn't because he'd slept with the owners' wives?"

"None of them would wait forty years to kill him though," she pointed out with a curt shake of her head. "Do you honestly want some kind of foul play to be involved? Are you in dire need for a mission?"

"No, of course not. I just want to be sure that it was a car accident. For Tony's sake."

"I promise if I hear anything, I will let you know but don't you dare go snooping around."

"You were always the snooper." I muttered under my breath.

She reached for my left hand and held it up to obviously show off Bucky's ring. My cheeks burned even though I'd made no attempt to hide it. "We should talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about," I blushed.

"I thought we discussed a fresh start," she released my hand. "You could have married someone, had a family –"

"Peg," I sighed. "After Jack it never seemed that important. I figure it's something not meant for me."

"There is no shame in allowing yourself to fall in love again, don't you think Barnes would want you to be happy?"

I hopelessly shrugged, not knowing what else to say.

"I think he would have wanted that for you. Jack too."

My lashes fluttered rapidly together, the mascara mixing with the tears. "Jack," I murmured recalling the arrogant SSR agent. "He would've expected me to build a shrine to him."

Peggy smiled, nodding in agreement. "I never understood what you saw in him, but the two of you oddly worked."

"Whatever it was hasn't struck again, so I have to figure out how to feel fulfilled in another way."

For so long all I'd clung to was the past, focusing on righting what I believed were the mistakes that led me to being becoming the woman I was today. Though I doubted my feelings for Bucky would fade, there were other ways I could bring some happiness into my life, I just had to embrace the courage Peggy assumed I'd always possessed.

-x-

[January 1992 – Washington D.C]

I stood in the middle of my quarters, softly breathing in and out, as memories surrounded me. The small apartment had been my home for some time now, and while most of the furniture belonged to the agency, I'd collected bits and pieces from my travels – all of which were boxed up and being sent to Los Angeles where I'd decided to base myself. Tony as it was his birthright took over his father's company, becoming CEO of Stark Industries and after losing one of my oldest friends, I was compelled to make a change in my own life, for the better.

"Am I interrupting?"

I glimpsed over my shoulder and turned to find Fury entering. "No, I was just thinking. This place is the closest thing I've had to a home since I came to America."

"That was some time ago."

"No kidding," I chuckled. "July 1938 to be exact, and a long way from the small town I grew up in. But it's time for a change."

"Are you sure I can't convince you to change your mind?"

"Not this time, Fury, especially since I know you don't want me cramping your West Coast style."

He fought a smile, looking around the bare apartment with his hands clasped behind his back. Director Keller already vainly attempted to change my mind from the moment I put my papers in, but no matter how long winded his speeches were, or the adventures I was giving up, I was happy with my final decision. I was finally doing something for myself, after years of believing I was only as good as the mission I completed.

"Do you have any idea what you'll do next?"

"Well, I don't know if you heard but I've adopted a little boy." His eyebrows rose. "I called in some favors at that group home we not-so secretly keep in business so we can recruit the kids that don't get adopted and found a two-year-old who hasn't had the best start in life. I want to give him a good life and a family."

"What's his name?"

"Michael. I'm picking him up on my way to the airport," I replied happily. "When we're settled in, I thought maybe I could go into training."

"You certainly have enough experience for the job." The corners of his lips twitched as I walked over to where he stood, grabbing my jacket off the kitchen counter and pulled it on. "Ewell won't be happy to lose his partner."

"Probably not, but he's more than capable of taking the lead and I have no doubt he will teach his new partner some great skills." The smile that formed, a genuine happy smile couldn't be wiped off my face.

"I'll be sure to have something ready for you at the L.A branch when you're ready. You deserve to be happy, Renard."

I blushed as I glanced at him, surprised to hear him say something so fondly of me when we usually were at each other's throats. "Thank you, that actually means a lot coming from you."

"Does it?" He questioned as we walked towards the front door.

"We don't always see eye to eye, but I consider you a friend."

"Friends like you I could do without," he muttered.

I smiled thoughtfully, bowing him from the apartment. He lightly shook his head at me, and I exhaled a long breath, gradually closing the apartment door on the life I thought I'd never leave.


	16. Ode to Solitude

**Worlds Apart: Part 3**

 **CHAPTER SIXTEEN – Ode to Solitude**

 _[March 2012 – S.H.I.E.L.D Headquarters, New York]_

The rapid beat of my heart resonated in my ear. I fought through the painful burn in my leg muscles, persuading myself to run further and effortlessly thrash my usual treadmill running distance. Curious eyes darted towards the big flat screen television on the wall, playing a news channel on mute. Even at this early hour of the morning there was always something occurring somewhere in the world but nothing severe enough to warrant S.H.I.E.L.D's obvious involvement. An unmistakable creak of the gym doors opening, and closing stole my attention away from the news broadcast, and discovered Phil Coulson flashing me a tired smile. He still wore his black suit; a couple of shirt buttons open as his tie was missing. He buried his hands in his pant pockets, walking across the gym to stop beside the treadmill.

"You're here early," he commented without a hint of surprise.

"I never left," I adjusted the speed of the treadmill, slowing my pace until I was doing a brisk walk. "It's my busiest time of the year."

"How are things for the Director of Academy Recruitment?"

"I swear, every year the criterion for the Operations Academy becomes more demanding, yet the applications increase." I jumped up on the sides of the treadmill, switching the machine off and snatched up the towel from the hand rail, burying my sweaty face in it.

"You need sleep though, we don't need S.H.I.E.L.D's best asset wearing herself out."

Wrapping the towel round my neck, I hopped off the treadmill strolling over to the bench where my sports bag sat. "Don't worry about me, Phil, I have plenty in the tank."

"You're not worried about Michael, are you?"

"He's my son, of course I worry about him" I tossed the towel into the bag, flashing Phil a small smile. "I thought when he graduated from the academy two years ago, the stress would ease but now he's training with STRIKE down in the Amazon…" I sighed cursing his adventurous stubborn nature. "Sometimes I wonder if I should've pushed him to do something else with his life."

"It's all he's ever wanted, even when he was ten, he used to follow me around in his suit and tie."

"He used to sleep in that suit and tie," I smiled at the fond memory, zipping up my bag. "It's not an easy life, Phil, made difficult even more so because I'm his mother."

"He's done well to create his own path."

I glanced at the manila folder in his grasp, raising an eyebrow. "You're not here just to chat, are you?"

"Director Fury sent me to read you in on Operation Frostbite," he extended the folder to me, so I could flick through the photographs held within. "For the past few months there's been a team looking into the whereabouts of Johann Schmidt's aircraft." My head snapped up abruptly. Everything became brutally clear, and I mentally cursed Fury's deceitful ways. "There's been new Intel to suggest the suspected crash site could be accessible this time of year."

"And Fury sent you because he knew I wouldn't throw you through a wall."

"I hope not," he smiled kindly, hedging his bets on our friendship being stronger than my anger.

I didn't bother to continue through the folder, a hand instinctively going to where my locket and Bucky's ring faithfully sat against my chest. "It's been sixty-seven years, almost to the day. Why now?"

"That is a question for Director Fury. He mentioned you were one of the last people to speak with Captain Rogers before he went down."

My gaze dropped obviously, remembering that fateful day in the HYDRA bunker. Peggy's sobbing haunted me, mourning for an unfathomable love neither of us truly got over after losing our men.

"I didn't speak with him, but I was there, listening to his final transmission. He was selfless and brave until the very end, he truly was one of a kind." I swallowed hard, looking up at Phil who almost hung off every word relating to his childhood hero. "I would love nothing more than to put him to rest with the other Howling Commandos."

"So, you'll help the taskforce?"

I curtly nodded. "I'll shower and change, and meet you in the archives, there could be something in the old SSR files about the assumed crash site."

Phil nodded heading off as I silently sat, wondering if we were on the cusp of discovering a man thought lost.

* * *

 _[Washington D.C]_

The heels of my boots tapped against the floor, gradually slowing when I heard voices floating from Peggy's room on approach. I clutched a bouquet of brightly colored flowers, each one chosen in hopes the color and flower would spark a memory. I paused beside the open doorway, lingering out of sight as I heard Peggy laugh. It was a sweet sound to hear, warm and welcoming and I could picture her face lighting up in delight. However, it just made the moment that much more devastating, realizing the dementia was beginning to set in swiftly –stealing away the accomplished woman I considered a sister.

It had been a heartbreaking decision for Peggy's family to place her into care, none of us eager to accept that age finally began to take its toll. The mere thought of losing her was something I couldn't deal with and vainly attempted not to count of how many years we might have left together. A world without Peggy was unbearable. She was the only friend I had left from the old days, the only one who knew what I'd been through.

I smiled brightly though and rounded the corner, entering the room decorated with all the home comforts, including the many photographs Peggy once kept on her mantelpiece. The petite nurse standing at her bedside looked up, almost sighing in relief.

"Miss. Renard, this is a surprise."

"I hope you don't mind an impromptu visit?"

Peggy's face broke out into an elated smile when her gaze fell upon me. "Genevieve!"

"Hello, Peg," I returned her smile.

The nurse paused beside me taking the flowers off my hands. "You're in luck; she's having a good week, very lucid…even telling war stories to anyone that'll listen. She talks about you often, Miss. Renard when she tells her stories, anyone would think you fought alongside her during the war."

I merely smiled, unable to tear my gaze away from where my old friend sat peacefully in bed, always older than what I remembered from my previous visits. I walked over, leaning over to kiss Peggy's cheek before perching myself on the edge of the bed. "How are you feeling today, Peg?"

"Oh, I am just fine. Look at your hair, it's so long," she reached up and lightly tangled her fingers within the ends of my loose wavy hair, allowing the silky strands of dark brown hair to fall easily from her fingers. "I wouldn't think you would like it any longer, it will annoy you and get in the way of your work."

"I promise I will have it trimmed before I see you again."

She lowered her hands and reached for mine, giving them a small squeeze. "What brings you here?"

"I have some news I thought you might like to hear," I replied hopefully.

"Oh?"

"Director Fury may have new Intel on the location of Johann Schmidt's aircraft," Peggy's wrinkled face furrowed in confusion and I allowed my words to sink in for a moment before continuing. "He's asked me to assist –"

"Genevieve, are you sure?"

I curtly nodded, gently brushing my thumb over her knuckles, gazing at the gold band wedding ring she still wore. "I thought about this for a long time and I need to be a part of this, especially when I had the chance to search for Steve with Howard but didn't because…I was scared. Whatever might be out there, I need to see it with my own eyes."

"What does Michael have to say about this? I don't think he'd like you chasing after ghosts."

My smile faded somewhat, my hazel eyes lifting to her worried features. "Peggy," I murmured softly. "He'll understand I need to do this, to find some sort of closure for us. We deserve to know the truth."

"What about Howard? He should be there." She frowned, and my heart sank.

"Howard is dead, Peg. Remember, he and Maria were killed in a car accident?"

"Of course, I remember now," she replied hastily sliding her hands from mine, reaching for the glass of water on the bedside table as the nurse returned with flowers in a vase.

I slipped off the bed and adjusted the blanket, glimpsing at the nearest photo frame – one of Peggy with her children and sighed softly. My grasp of normalcy was abruptly slipping away, leaving nothing more than an uneasy pit of despair in its wake.


	17. Play Dead

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN – Play Dead**

The wind slapped at my mouth, chapping my lips, as it was the only part of my face exposed to the freezing elements. My throat muscles seized up with every deep inhale of cold air. I stood motionless and alone, peering at one of the most amazing sights I'd ever been blessed to see. A numbness crept over me, not just from the cold but the memories. I gathered my wits together and tramped over the compact snow, allowing the glowing red lights to lead me towards the dark, stealth like aircraft from World War 2 –an example of HYDRA's advanced technology, exploited when attempting to win the war.

A strange tingle ran down my spine, spreading throughout my body as the aircraft easily dwarfed me. I looked up to study the flawless features that were once owned by a less than human man, his kind touching my life personally and forever tainting me. Making my way towards the small cluster of people in white snow gear, I lowered my goggles as a tall man approached me. His staunch posture gave away his agent status; somehow, they all ended up looking stiff and starchy after years of service. I wondered if I appeared the same to others.

"Are you the special government agent?" He asked.

"Yes, Genevieve Renard with S.H.I.E.L.D." I extended my gloved hand and we shook.

"I'm Doug Winters, CIA. We were told we couldn't move the body until you gave the all clear."

"Body?" My heart thumped loudly in my ear, a burst of confusion battling against the shock confession. "No one mentioned there was a body."

"It's in the belly of the aircraft. This is the greatest find of this century," he stated. "But if your people are here, I don't need to tell you that."

"No, you don't. You could say I have a personal interest in this discovery, especially now you mention there's a body."

"You do?" Doug frowned while leading me towards the round hole they'd created on the surface.

"Yes."

The perfectly cut out cavity permitted me to peer down into the dark metal belly of the aircraft. There was no hesitation in my actions to pull on a harness. Doug attached me to the rope, taking the lead to abseil down into the craft. I followed, my boots landing hard against the snow.

"Bloody hell," I whispered studying the interior design of the craft with awe. It was futuristic for its time and nothing like the bomber planes I'd witnessed flying over London during the war. I unhooked myself from the rope and cautiously followed Doug through the small snowy dunes.

"We believe this is the front of the craft and the body was found beside the pilot's chair." He waved his flashlight ahead, the light reflecting off something shiny.

I moved passed him fighting a gasp as the round shield, where red, blue and white coloring revealed itself. Situated above it was the frozen features of Steve Rogers. Startled by the sight I stumbled backwards, gloved hands muffling a tiny scream.

"You okay?"

Ignoring Doug, I hastily tugged off my gloves, digging a hand into my pocket to retrieve my mobile. I used the autodial and heard a gruff voice seconds later.

" _Fury,"_

"It's Renard, the aircraft is intact and…he's here."

" _Are you sure it's him?"_

I moved closer, outstretching a bare hand so my trembling fingers could brush against the cool metal shield. "I may be ninety-one but I'm not senile…yet."

" _Ship him and the aircraft back to headquarters after DNA confirmation."_

"Copy that, sir." The line went dead, and I glanced over my shoulder at Doug. "Bring my recovery team down here; he's coming home with me."

"And the aircraft?"

"Everything here is now in the custody of S.H.I.E.L.D, you and everyone else not related to my team can leave. We'll take it from here. Thank you for your cooperation, Agent Winters."

Doug curtly nodded and reached for the radio attached to his jacket. I crouched beside the pilot's chair, unable to tear my gaze from Steve's frozen features. Doug was right about one thing; this was the find of the century.

-x-

The S.H.I.E.L.D recovery team descended into the aircraft within minutes of my order and initiated the long procedure of melting enough of the ice to loosen Steve and his shield without defrosting him in the process. By the time, I climbed out of the aircraft the sun had fully risen into the sky, revealing a white, barren wasteland. I felt just as empty. Surely as this was the news, I'd hoped for that maybe I would be crying, or smiling with delight. Yet, as I surveyed the hive of activity around me, I didn't feel anything.

I shadowed the six men carrying the black plastic body bag, packed not only with Steve but with bags of ice into one of the S.H.I.E.L.D tents erected beside the aircraft site. A lone gurney sat in the middle of this tent, with computers and medical equipment surrounding it. The body bag was set upon the gurney and opened after the men left to the reveal the Steve's perfectly preserved body still dressed in the stars and stripes uniform, he'd been wearing when we'd parted at the edge of the forest.

"Hell of a way to go," one of the agents remarked flicking on the large overhead lamp, highlighting Steve's icy blue features.

I blinked back the tears, feeling the water drops finally form.

"Agent Renard?"

I looked over at Marion waving nearby, a S.H.I.E.L.D medical researcher who'd been assisting the search into Steve's whereabouts. We'd known each other twenty years, and she was one of the few people I trusted when it came to my six-monthly physicals. I stomped over as she grinned at me, her ginger locks even brighter behind the stark background of the tent.

"How are you?"

"Cold," I managed a feeble smile. "What are your thoughts?"

"Well, as far as we can tell he's been perfectly preserved, and as far as we know he's a picture of perfection thanks to Dr. Erskine's serum. I'll be able to tell you more once we're back in the lab at headquarters."

I adjusted the beanie covering my loose hair as we proceeded to study Steve detained within his icy prison and two other male staff members work around him.

"This can't be easy for you to see him like th –"

"Ohmygod!"

Our attention instantly focused on the man running a glowing bar above Steve's body, his dark eyes widening. "What is it, Lee?" Marion questioned rushing to his side.

"This guy is still alive!"

"That's not possible," I stated lightly shaking my head. "He's been frozen in ice for the past six decades!"

The computer monitors beside us snappishly beeped, the entire group huddling around an immobile Steve.

"The machine must be faulty," Lee's confusion hung in the air, and despite my feelings I cautiously reached out, pressing two trembling fingers against his icy flesh. I didn't know what to expect but it certainly wasn't the faint beat of a pulse that vibrated against my fingers.

My hand dropped like a dead weight. "Keep him on ice!" I snapped abruptly. "We move out in ten minutes!"

"But, Renard, he's still alive –"

"Lee! Pack him in ice and get him on the damn plane! No one hears of this; do you understand me?" I looked at each agent as they nodded and stormed from the tent, grabbing my mobile to dial the Director again.

" _What now?"_

"Well, we have a slight, unforeseen problem," I muttered trying to force my way through the shock.

" _What is it?"_

Snow crunched loudly beneath my boots as I marched towards the Quinjet being prepped for the flight back to headquarters in New York. "He's still alive…Steve Rogers is alive."

" _Are you sure?"_

"Fury, I felt his pulse myself. I've ordered an immediate evac, and we'll keep him on ice until we reach headquarters."

" _Does anyone else know besides you?"_

"Agents Johnstone, Lee and Doctor Warrant were present."

" _Okay, get back here ASAP. I'll have a team waiting for your arrival."_

"Copy that." I exhaled a long sigh, burying my mobile in my pocket as I continued towards the Quinjet, my lips finally curving into a smile.

-x-

"That is incredible!"

I swallowed a laugh. Phil practically bounced on the spot, giddy as a schoolgirl seeing their favorite band in person for the first time. I however, anxiously clutched the hem of my navy blazer, staring through the window glass into the procedure room where Steve, still frozen, laid on a table with several medical staff surrounding him. For the past couple of days, he'd been in a comatose condition during which the medical staff examined him like a prized artefact. I'd taken to visiting every spare moment I could find, standing in the same spot to observe them go about their work.

"He's so perfectly preserved…look at his uniform! Genevieve, did he look like that the last time you saw him."

I rested a calm hand upon his shoulder, "Yes, Phil, minus the icicles, he looked exactly like he does now. The serum's worked its magic once again."

"Where's his shield, sir?" Phil asked.

"Next door."

I looked at Director Fury standing on my other side, his usual stony expression plastered upon his African American features. "So, what happens now?"

"We've got to approach this carefully; the Captain's been frozen for almost seventy years and we need to ease him into it."

"That's easier said than done, sir, he's going to freak out…anyone would. We have to tell the man everything he's ever known, everyone he's ever loved is gone. Except for Agent Renard of course."

"Right, what do you think, Renard?" Fury turned to me, raising an eyebrow. "You knew the man; how do we explain where he's ended up."

"I have an idea, a strange one but it might work as a short-term solution until we figure out an explanation." Fury motioned for me to explain further. "I was thinking we set up a room in wartime fashion; make him believe he's waking up in a veterans' hospital in 1945."

"You want to lie to him?" Phil frowned.

"No, I see her point," Fury nodded, where I could almost see the idea blossoming in his mind. "Make him feel comfortable with his surroundings, keep him calm until we can break the truth to him. You'd probably be the best one to talk to him."

"I still have my old uniform, I can be his first contact."

Fury extended the manila folder in his hands to me. "Good. The team are starting the defrosting process this afternoon. You've got twenty-four hours to have his room ready." He turned on his heel and stalked out of the room as I stepped closer to the window to stare at the Steve's frozen features.

"You're in good hands, old friend," I promised.


	18. In Joy & Sorrow

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN – In Joy & Sorrow**

Stark Tower stood like a beacon amongst the New York City skyline. A burst of pride always overcame me when I saw one of Tony's creations, and it was much the same walking around the top level of the Tower, boasting an enviable view of the city I called home.

"I'm gonna start charging admission soon."

"Views like this should be appreciated."

"You look like you could use a drink, old girl."

My godson glanced over his shoulder at me, pulled from his work because of my silence. Whenever I laid eyes on Tony, I felt myself do a double take, seeing Howard's features and witnessing his personality was a constant reminder my old friend remained with me in spirit. We'd always been close, a unique bond strengthened after Tony's abduction in the Middle East led him to becoming Iron Man. His desire to do good and leave a positive legacy reflected my own needs from the past, because despite the stories splashed across the tabloids, he was a good man.

"Maybe more than one." I forced a smile, following Tony towards the fully stocked bar.

"I heard they found Captain America."

"Yes, I was there," I replied taking the glass of scotch, barely noting the exquisite taste as I drained it in a mouthful. Tony frowned, pouring me another. "I felt his pulse, the faint beat of a man we thought we'd lost."

"I remembering dad never shutting up about him."

"He never forgave himself for not finding the crash site," I admitted sitting at the bar, staring forlornly into the glass. "Tomorrow I see Steve for the first time since the war, and I have to tell him that everything he knew is gone, his friends are dead and buried."

"Except you."

"Somehow, I don't think that'll comfort him." I glanced up at Tony, those deep pools of brown drawing a small amount of ease. "Besides, I think Fury's already got plans for him, and I can imagine Steve going along with it because he doesn't know any better."

"What else would he do, Gin? Shoe shining? Living statue?"

"Not funny, Tony." I scowled. "The man gave his life to save us, he deserves more than a S.H.I.E.L.D badge."

"Somehow I don't think we're talking about Rogers anymore, I'm sensing conflict with you and Fury, understandable if he treats you the same way he treats me."

I took a lengthy sip from the glass. "The conflict is in me. Every time I think I have a handle on things, everything gets tipped upside down."

"Look, I don't have no fancy Director of Spies title or anything, but I think Rogers is best left with you. You've played the game longer than anyone, you can help him figure out where he fits in."

"It unnerves me when you talk sense." I couldn't fight the smile spreading across my face, matching Tony's cheeky smirk.

"I know."

I slipped off the stool, leaning over the bar to hug him. "I better go, I've got a big day tomorrow."

"Wait! You didn't tell me if Coulson squealed like a girl when he saw Rogers."

"I'm not telling you anything." I waved him off heading for the elevator.

"He did, didn't he? I bet there were tears!"

I shook my head stepping into the elevator, closing the door on Tony's thrilled face.

-x-

The handheld radio sitting on my desk crackled as I swallowed a mouthful of coffee, listening to the clear female voice coming through the static.

 _"All agents code 13!"_

Snatching the Glock from a drawer, I shoved it into the back of my pants heading towards the door, grabbing my blazer as I departed. Instead of the waiting for the elevator, I chose the stairs, retrieving a spare ear piece from the pocket to hear another command.

 _"I repeat, all agents code 13!"_

"Dammit," I muttered skipping down the stairs, pressing a finger to my ear. "Base command, this is Agent Renard, target is not to be harmed. Repeat, target is not a threat! Target is not to be approached!"

 _"Copy that, Agent Renard. Director Fury is on route, following target."_

"Where is the target?" I questioned slamming my hands against the emergency exit door, shoving it open to enter the vast area of headquarters ground floor, which was rapidly filling with agents, scattering in all directions.

 _"Target is on foot…he's moving fast."_

"I want a useful update, command!" I jogged outside and jumped into the nearest S.H.I.E.L.D issued sedan. I pressed the start button and thumped my shoe against the accelerator, the tires screeching against the damp road as it sped off.

 _"Target is heading towards Broadway!"_

"I'm two minutes away!"

 _"Copy that, Agent Renard."_

I spun the steering wheel taking a corner at high speed, narrowly missing the curb and the crowd of people standing upon it. The sedan weaved in and out of the traffic, almost ramming into the trunk of a cab upon discovering a convoy of S.H.I.E.L.D vehicles up ahead. I pulled off to one side, parking behind a black SUV, and jumped out, trudging through the crowd of tourists and locals rapidly converging around the scene.

"At ease soldier!"

Fury's voice carried over the crowd, pulling me in as I paid no attention to the fat drops of rain dwindling from the heavens, soaking into my scalp. I removed my ID from my pocket, flashing it at one of agents detaining the crowd at an enforced perimeter. He permitted me through the containment line as I came up behind Fury.

"Look, I'm sorry about that little show back there, but we thought it best to break it to you slowly,"

"Break what?"

Hearing my approaching footsteps made Fury glimpse back over his shoulder at me. He curtly nodded for me to come forward and I did so, pausing beside him and looking ahead to notice Steve staring bewildered at his surroundings. He was outfitted in plain tan pants and a white SSR T-shirt I'd chosen purposefully for our plan, ruined by some eager agent. He spun back to Fury, the smooth skin between his eyes pinching together when he spotted me.

"You've been asleep, Cap, for almost seventy years," Fury explained whilst I watched Steve, expecting an explosive outcry of shock but he remained strangely silent and composed. "You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I just…I had a date," he replied gradually.

"Hello, Steve," I finally found my voice.

He shifted his attention away from the flashing billboards displaying the latest Broadway shows to focus his blue eyes upon me. "Gin? Is it really you?"

"It's really me."

"The serum?"

"Yes. Why don't you come along with me? I'll take you back to headquarters and explain as much as I can to you."

He cautiously approached us, studying both Fury and I with a keen military eye. Once satisfied we were no threat to him, his shoulders relaxed, and he offered up a feeble smile. "You look the same, Gin."

"I think Zola was a little heavy handed with the anti-aging," I joked covering the remaining distance between us to embrace him. The instant his strong arms enclosed around me, I sighed softly into his neck. My heartbeat relaxed, and I almost felt as if I'd reclaimed a lost part of my past. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you."

He gave me a short squeeze in reply before pulling away.

"Can I leave him in your custody, Renard?"

I nodded at Fury. "We'll be just fine, but I want the agent responsible for this mess cleaning lavatories at the Sandbox."

"I'll look into it."

Steve's heavy steps stalked mine back to the sedan, gaze wandering around a city he no longer recognized. In the stillness of the sedan, words evaded me, hands going through the automatic movement of starting the vehicle, only to freeze with my hands clutching the steering wheel.

"Steve, I have to apologize," I shared at the windscreen, fat drops of rain landing upon the glass, and exploding into dozens of tiny droplets.

"What for?"

I looked at him as he did me. "It was my idea for you to wake up in that room. I thought it would be easier for you to handle waking up in a familiar place to begin with, ease you into our time gradually."

"You almost had me convinced, Gin, but I was at that game in '41." No anger laced his tone, he appeared content considering everything that was happening around him.

"Well, in my defense I was meant to be the first person you saw."

"So," he sighed. "I've been asleep for seventy years?"

"Technically, frozen and missing in action." I carefully reversed and turned the sedan around, keeping to the speed limit on the drive back to headquarters. "I've arranged a room for you at our headquarters, a temporary placement until Director Fury can assign an agent to be your liaison officer, someone to help you adjust to –"

"No offense, Gin," he interrupted calmly. "But I don't think I'll be adjusting to this…place anytime soon."

I merely nodded. "Understandable, but I promise you, this place isn't so bad. There's been great advances in medicine and technology, and the food is amazing." He silently stared out the window. "How much do you remember?"

He sighed, frowning for a moment before answering. "I remember going into the HYDRA base, fighting Schmidt, and talking to Peggy…" he trailed off awkwardly.

"We tried to get Howard on the line, but by the time we did the transmission had cut out."

He looked at me, the corners of his lips curving slightly. "It's okay, Gin; it was my choice to take that plane down."

"She never forgot you," I admitted parking the sedan in front of headquarters. "None of us did."

"Is she…"

"She's alive." He exhaled a long breath as I gently patted his arm. "C'mon, let's head inside."

We headed indoors, agents hanging back and allowing us space to move through the modern building. Steve remained lost in his thoughts as we entered the elevator. I didn't press him to talk, sympathetic to the value of self-reflection during a lifechanging upheaval. Swiping my ID card when we arrived at the resident level, I gained access to a small self-contained apartment, outfitted in contemporary furnishings and clean, straight lines.

"You should be comfortable here, the cupboards are stocked, and the bedroom is just through there," I motioned to the nearest open doorway. "I put my business card on the fridge, so if you need anything at all, you can call me."

He frowned standing in the middle of the space and examining the contemporary furnishings, so painfully obvious as the one thing that didn't quite belong. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," I smiled.

"Do you know how I was found?"

"I do, because I was there," I perched myself on the arm of the black leather couch. "A Russian oil team discovered Schmidt's plane. Apparently, the weather conditions can be brutal; the landscape is always changing which is why it was never discovered before now."

He walked by, heading straight towards the large square window looking down onto the street.

"I flew out to the site within hours of the plane being located, and I was standing next to your body when the medical team discovered you were still alive."

"That must've been a shock."

"I thought if there was a body, I would be laying it to rest, not here having a conversation," I smiled as he glanced back over his shoulder at me. "Well, I should leave you in pea – "

"No," he spun round. "Stay for a bit? Tell me about your life."

"There's not much to tell,"

"C'mon, Gin, you haven't been sleeping all these years like I have."

"I know, but I don't want to bombard you with too much information. You should be taking it easy."

He frowned, "I've never been the guy to sit on the sidelines."

"Bucky always said you and I were alike in that way."

Steve nodded, folding his arms across his chest but couldn't fight the smile tempting his lips at the mention of his boyhood friend.

"I've just had an idea." I pushed off the couch with a widening smile. "Instead of staying here, why don't you come and stay with me? I have an apartment in Brooklyn."

"I don't want to impose –"

"You won't be, my son is training in South America, so the place feels somewhat empty when I'm rattling around it."

"Son?"

"Michael, my adopted son." I pulled my phone from my pocket, showing Steve the wallpaper photo of the young blue-eyed dirty blonde on his graduation from the Academy. "He's an agent as well, and a great admirer of the Howling Commandos," I stated, grabbing a S.H.I.E.L.D issue jacket from the closet to toss at Steve. "I think you'll be more comfortable at my place, no agents buzzing around, and I'll even throw in a few homecooked meals."

"Thanks, Gin, it means a lot."

"It's the lease I can do," I reassured and motioned for him to follow me.

Whatever nerves I might've possessed in seeing Steve, unfrozen and alive in the twenty first century, faded during the drive to Brooklyn. I prattled on about my boring desk job, my life with Michael in L.A, and how infamous playboy Howard Stark finally settled down to have a family. Steve posed the odd question to me, but mostly listened intently.

The moment we entered my home silence enfolded us, and I allowed Steve a moment to take in another set of new surroundings. Modern furnishings and appliances were obvious choices for the open planned space –large windows looked out onto the street and Brooklyn bridge. Yet, amongst the mod cons were homey details –a Turkish rug to separate the dining and living, vases and kick-knacks from my travels over the years, and an array of framed photographs lining walls and surfaces.

Carefully closing the door, I wasn't entirely surprised to find Steve's attention captivated by the built-in shelves opposite the galley kitchen. Among the books were my most beloved photographs.

"You've lived a full life," he commented quietly.

"A long life." I came up beside him as he reached for a photograph and me and Peggy on her wedding day. "She's lived her life too."

He merely nodded, setting the frame down.

"C'mon, I'll show you where you're sleeping and then you can wash up." He let me take his arm, putting his faith in me and this strange new world he found himself in.

Comfortable in sweats and baggy hoodie, I entered the quiet gym, dark, except for the single dome light creating a spotlight over Steve. I sat on the floor, crossing my legs beneath me while he continued to deliver hard punches to the boxing bag.

"It's easy when they don't fight back."

"What are you doing here?" He puffed.

"Bed empty, no note…don't think I haven't heard you wandering around the apartment at all hours of the night for the past week," I replied causing him to sigh and face me. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about."

I cocked my head to one side. "Denial is not your friend, I am. I'm also a mother, so my ability to nag is supreme…I could probably nag you to the point of madness, Michael can attest to that."

My lighthearted comment went on deaf ears and silence enclosed us. Steve went back to beating the bag until the strength of his punches propelled the usual sturdy object across the room. My troubled friend breathed deeply, fraught to get his emotions back under control –a rare sight to my eyes. Even after witnessing Bucky fall from the HYDRA train, Steve had been a pillar of strength for me.

He faced me, lightly shaking out his trembling hands. "How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Live, with all…this?"

"I've had the luxury of moving through the years."

"That's not what I mean, and you know it."

I climbed to my feet, walking over to where Steve's sports bag sat on the bench. I grabbed a bottle of water, tossing it to him as he came over to sit with me.

"I don't have an answer for you," I replied honestly, shrugging my shoulders. "I didn't have much of a choice, it was either adapt or die. My work kept me going, and then I've been raising Michael the past twenty years."

"But you lost so much," he murmured.

"No more than others. It will take time, Steve. You can't expect to have all the answers straight away, you need to give yourself a chance to breathe, figure out what works for you." I linked my arm through his, flashing him a small smile. "You must be costing Fury a fortune in boxing bags."

He genuinely smiled, "He mentioned something about sending me a bill."

"He probably will," I chuckled. "Seriously though, don't be too hard on yourself, I'm right here whenever you need someone, and I have a feeling Fury's got plans for you, so you might not have much time left to dwell on all of this."

"You think he's got a mission for me?"

"Fury's brain is always working on something, assessing the options and assets he's got on hand. He won't put you into the field unless he thinks you're ready or God forbid something devastating happens."

"How likely is that?"

"Well, there was an incident with Tony last year and a sibling fight in New Mexico, but things have been quiet lately."

My words hung uncomfortably in the tranquility of the gym, as two old super soldiers sat side by side, secretly waiting for a call up to importance.


	19. Circle of Fear

**CHAPTER NINETEEN – Circle of Fear**

The doorbell drew my attention from a pile of performance reports. Glancing at my watch and discovering the hour was late, I was surprised to discover Fury when I opened the door. A personal appearance to my apartment in the past meant something serious played on his mind.

"Do you know where Rogers is?"

"Hello to you too, Fury." I sighed closing the door behind him. Abandoning work, I poured us each a glass of scotch, joining him on the couch. "Don't pretend as if you haven't had a team following him around since we left headquarters."

Fury's lips twitched slightly, unsurprised by my knowing response. "I've heard he's been staying here with you even though he's got his own place."

"Does that surprise you?" I questioned. "I'm the only one who can understand what he's going through, the only one from his past that he can talk too." I sipped my drink, managing a small smile when I caught Fury's gaze. "I like having him around."

"I wouldn't get too comfortable, Renard, there's been an incident." He drained his glass, and I did the same dreading the words he'd yet to speak. "We lost Project P.E.G.A.S.U.S last night, and a few agents."

"Anyone I know?"

"Clint Barton has been taken, along with the Tesseract, we don't know much else at this point. But I've everyone I can looking for him."

"Shit." I poured us another drink. "Does Natasha know?"

He nodded. "I've sent her to get Dr. Banner, we could use his help finding the Tesseract. And I'm thinking Rogers would fit into the Avengers Initiative."

"I thought the council put it on the shelf?"

"They did, but now the Tesseract is in the hands of an Asgardian who wants to go to war with us." He drained his second glass in a large mouthful, an uncomfortable sign of how serious things must've been.

"What do you need from me?" I volunteered without hesitation.

"If I can get everyone organized, someone needs to hold them together."

"I assume covertly?" He nodded handing me his empty glass as he stood. "I can only do my best, especially if Tony's involved."

"I've put out the call. I'm assembling everyone on the Helicarrier, I'll have a Quinjet ready for you first thing."

"I'll be there." I promised seeing him to the door. "I still think the Avengers is a good idea."

"Remind me of that tomorrow when they're all together."

My feeble smile faded the moment he left, I finished my drink and went to collect my go bag.

-x-

A finger slid across the screen bringing up a new window, a news channel presenting the cavernous hole where the Pegasus base had been destroyed at the mercy of the Tesseract. There were many aspects of S.H.I.E.L.D, rumors of departments that existed for various purposes, and I never bothered to learn the ins and outs of the agency, understanding many moving parts came together to insure the safety of the world.

"Gin?" I looked up, watching Steve and Phil board the Quinjet. Steve's surprise held firm in his tone and spread across his face as if I was the last person he expected to see. "What are you doing here?"

"All hands are needed." I stated obviously.

Steve dropped his bag and claimed the seat beside me, while Phil spoke to the pilot. "I thought you worked behind a desk."

"You think I've lost my touch?" I playfully elbowed his side bringing a smile to his face. The Quinjet hummed quietly beneath us as startup protocols were put into motion, the aircraft gradually moving out the air hanger.

"You always knew how to handle yourself, even before the serum."

"Well we can thank Peg for that, she was my best teacher."

I handed him the screen, bringing up the files on the rest of team considered for the Avengers. Securing my belt, the Quinjet effortlessly took to the sky. "They aren't the Howling Commandos, but they each bring something useful to the table. I may be bias given I know most of them."

"So, this Doctor Banner was trying to replicate the serum they used on me?" He frowned as videos of the Hulks rampage through New York lit up the screen.

"A lot of people were," Phil replied standing nearby, a safety rail above his head balancing him. "You were the world's first superhero. Banner thought gamma radiation might hold the key to unlocking Erskine's original formula."

"Didn't really go his way, did it?"

"You know as well as I do that creating that particlar formula is near impossible." Steve and I looked at each other. For the first time, I saw our true age reflected in his eyes, the long years at war brought a frown to his forehead. We couldn't save each other from the memories, those were our personal battles to deal with. "Doctor Banner is a good man though, he's interested in the science, not creating a super soldier army."

"And when he's not that thing, the guy's like a Stephen Hawkings." The confusion written all over Steve's face made me chuckle. "He's like a…smart person." Phil explained awkwardly.

"Oh," Steve nodded.

"I gotta say, it's an honor to meet you officially. I've sort of met you; I mean…I watched you while you were sleeping."

Focusing my attention on the screen Steve held became a struggle, the laughter bubbling in my throat couldn't escape during Phil's bashful gushing. I knew how much it meant to him to finally meet his childhood hero – I probably should've mentioned it to Steve before now.

"I mean…I was present while you were unconscious from the ice, I was part of the team that discovered your whereabouts."

"You could say Phil is a history buff, he enjoyed hearing some stories from the old days." I added, gaze lifting as Steve rose from his seat, walking over to stand behind the cockpit.

"Y'know, it's just a huge honor to have you on board this."

"I hope I'm the man for the job."

Steve's remark hit me harder than expected. I'd never known him to be so unsure of himself, and it was easy to forget only two weeks ago he'd been missing for seventy years. Yet, as I'd feared, he'd willing stepped up at serve.

"Oh, you are, absolutely!" Phil's enthusiasm wasn't catching. "We made some modification to the uniform; I had a little design input."

"The uniform? Aren't the stars and stripes a little old-fashioned?"

"With everything that's happened and the things that are about to come to light, people might need a little old-fashioned."

Steve glanced back over his shoulder at me, and my lips formed a tightlipped smile. I couldn't imagine any words I had would convince him of his worth. I didn't doubt the sight of Captain America would rouse the agents, just like it'd done with the soldiers during the war. Something about seeing the red, white and blue shield brought courage from its darkest depts and spurred everyone to fight behind him.

-x-

The three of us departed the Quinjet and into the motivated hive of activity aboard the S.H.I.E.L.D Helicarrier. I smiled brightly when I spotted a familiar red-head agent coming to greet us.

"The world must be in crisis if the Black Widow is gracing us with her presence!" I embraced the former Russian spy warmly. We hadn't seen each other in some time as her skills made her Fury's go-to agent, but we'd been good friends since I'd helped her escape an Odessa hospital after a run-in with the Winter Soldier.

"Someone had to fill the void the Widow Maker left behind."

"Sometimes I miss the field work but not that bloody awful codename. How are you, Natasha?"

"I'm good, happy you brought the reinforcements." She nodded at Steve.

"We're both here to help any way we can."

"Well, Fury wants to see you first, he's on the bridge."

I tried to read her expression finding no hint of what Fury could want with me.

I turned to the men. "I'm needed inside, but Natasha will take care of you."

Steve nodded, and I made my way indoors, following the path leading me to the hub of the floating fortress known as the Helicarrier. Fury stood proudly on the bridge, watching over the organized chaos of agents going about their duties. My boots tapping towards him, alerted him to my presence and he turned around expectantly.

"You took your time."

"I just arrived, is there an update?"

"Not yet." He left his post, leading me over to a quiet area. "Have you heard from Michael lately?"

"No, but I can't imagine he wants to talk to his mother when he's standing with Rumlow and his chums," I smiled, only to feel it fade as Fury's stony features remained fixed. Swallowing through the lump in my throat, I vainly attempted to keep my tone calm. "What's happened?"

"They haven't reported in but getting a signal can be spotty at best."

I took a deep breath but didn't feel my lungs accept it – much like Fury's explanation. Bracing my hands on my hips I could feel the tightness of my fingers digging into flesh. "I want access to the training files, their last known location, and a Quinjet to take me there."

"I need you focused on Loki –"

"I don't give a damn about some power-hungry God!" I snapped bitterly. "You can't tell me my son is missing and expect me to sit around here twiddling my thumbs!"

"We don't know they're missing –"

"Fury!"

"Genevieve!" He barely rose his voice. It didn't matter when he used my full name. I licked my lips, taking a step back from him, unwittingly crowding his personal space when he refused to meet my demands. "I've got people on it, and when I know something, I will tell you. But right now, I need you focused on the task of finding Barton."

I sighed, "Is Tony here yet?"

"He's on his way."

"Fine, I'll be in my quarters changing, let me know when he's here."

Fury curtly nodded. I'd known the man long enough to trust his word, and if he was worried, then everyone needed to be put on notice. Nick Fury wasn't a man who scared easily.

-x-

In silence of my quarters I changed into a S.H.I.E.L.D jumpsuit. The material clung to my slender figure as well as it did during the long years I spent in the field. Various weapons filled long awaited empty spots and with pulling my hair back into a ponytail, I felt almost prepared to take on whatever the day held. The nagging thoughts about Michael were a distraction, every fiber in my body ached to be on a Quinjet, flying to South America to search the Amazon for him. I'd hack my way through the jungle, suffer bug bites and snakes just to find him.

"Gin?"

I spun round, surprised to find Steve standing in the now open doorway, his hand falling from the handle as he studied me from head to toe.

"You usually wear that?"

"It's one of my old uniforms, I'm thinking it could use a Coulson update." I reached for the pile of folders an agent brought me, from the bed, passing Steve as I departed the room. "How is the facial search coming along?"

"Nothing yet. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." I marched ahead with purpose, only to be abruptly stopped by Steve reaching for my arm.

"You might be a super spy, but I can tell something is bothering you."

I avoided his gaze, another lie tempting my lips to part, but it faded at the last second to be replaced with a weary sigh. "It's Michael, his training group haven't made contact."

"And you're obviously worried somethings happened?"

"I didn't expect to hear from him, he's training, and I understand he can't call his mother, but they're meant to check in with headquarters."

Steve's grasp softened, and my lashes fluttered to rapidly dispel the tears. "From what you've told me, Michael knows how to handle himself."

"I didn't want this life for him. If anything happens to him…"

The files crunched in my grasp, pressed against my chest.

"Is Fury looking into it?"

"Yes, he said he'll call if he hears anything."

"Okay, so tell me about this Loki, he's a God –"

"-Asgardian God." I opened a crinkled folder to show him a photograph of Loki during his time in New Mexico. "There was an incident in New Mexico last year where a brotherly feud practically wiped out a small town. Nothing we couldn't cover up of course, but the Council have been on edge ever since."

"Can't say I blame them."

"Thor appears to be a friendly, whilst his brother appears content for a hostile takeover." I flicked through the crumpled file papers where tons of mythology littered the page but nothing, I considered practical. "I don't think he'll be easily defeated let alone apprehended, so we have to hope Thor will help."

"We can't wait around to see if he shows up, it's up to us to bring Loki in."

I smiled up at him, "If anyone can do it, you can."

"You're not coming along?"

"No, I'm going to stay here in case there's any news about Michael." Firm in my resolve we parted ways at the end of the corridor.


	20. Heartkiller

**CHAPTER TWENTY – Heartkiller**

"Brought your toys, have you, kid?"

"Only what I had with me," Tony smiled, cringing as I hugged him tightly, placing a chase kiss on his cheek as we parted. "So, Rogers isn't the only fossil they brought in?"

"I'm just here to observe and step in when required." I stole a glance around the science lab, barely recognizing the equipment he had to play with. Doctor Banner flashed me a small smile and a friendly wave from the other side.

"Fury's asked you to babysit me?" Tony shot me a knowing look.

"You did well bringing Loki in, and I know that big wonderful brain of yours will assist Banner in finding the cube, but –"

"- you're here to babysit me." He sighed dramatically.

Well known in the past for womanizing, and creating weapons of mass destruction, he'd recently branched out into clean energy. No cost was too great when it came to Tony achieving his goals. His exploits as Iron Man brought a new level of danger into his life, and always had me questioning what his parents would think. Intelligent and charming, I found it easier and less stressful to let the man do as he pleased, knowing he'd follow his own path regardless.

"While I'm keeping an eye on you, I'm hoping you can do me a favor."

"Does it involve breaking the rules?" I nodded again, his eyes lighting up in keen mischief. "I'm listening."

"I need you to access Michael's file, find out where his STIRKE training is taking place, I only know it's South America."

Tony regarded me a long second before pulling a small flat screen device from his pocket. "Something happened?"

"Unofficially, he's missing," I murmured, ignoring the internal struggle of whether I stayed or left, abandoning my friends for the sake of my son. "The team haven't made contact in a few days, and Fury's working on it but I need answers now, and my hacking skills are nowhere near as good as yours."

"Putting your pathetic attempt at flattery to one side, I've got his file…was he really born in New Jersey?"

"Tony," I groaned. "Get to the location."

"Okay." He frowned at the screen until he held it up for me to see with a confident grin. "They're meant to be based at Coari, Brazil."

"Does it say anything else?"

"They were meant to report in a week ago, and their last transmission mentioned one of them was sick, had a fever and they were returning to town for medical treatment." He spoke carefully realizing his words could lead to a brash reaction.

"Michael?"

"Doesn't say a name."

"Keep looking."

"Gin –"

"-Tony! I said keep looking!" With mounting rage, I snapped viciously my godson. "And you call me as soon as you find something!" Turning on my heel I stalked out of the lab, heading for the communications room to demand a line to the Brazil office.

"…they called it."

Three words. Three small, somewhat insignificant words from Fury were enough to draw me from clearing the aftermath of Hulk's destruction in the lower levels of the Helicarrier.

I stood motionless on the spot, the words turning over in my head until a sharp poke in the arm from an agent brought me back to reality. I took off in a sprint, pushing pass agents mingling in the corridors, jumping over injured bodies and strewn objects to stop abruptly as the medical team carried Phil's lifeless body into the room.

A chilly silence remained long after the medical team left me alone. Stark surroundings contained the bodies of those lost during Loki's escape. Most were nameless to me, yet it didn't make their sacrifice any less important. We'd all sworn the same oath to protect and serve. Such words were lost, caught up in my emotions I'd failed in my duty as an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.

I stood beside one gurney, unable to embrace the courage to lower the white sheet covering Phil Coulson's face. Instead a trembling hand reached out to settle upon his chest, fingertips near the bloody mark where Loki's weapon sliced through the heart of the most decent man I'd known.

"Peace be with you, old friend," I whispered soberly. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to save you."

My spine clicked, shoulders straightening with approaching steps. Removing my hand from Phil's chest, I cast a sideways glance at Fury, his subdued features locked on his righthand man.

"Tell me you know where the bastard is."

"I don't. We're flying blind." He looked at me, gaze lifting to my forehead wound.

I self-consciously raised a hand to the bandage, discovering my hairline caked with blood. I hadn't bothered to wash up after being patched up. It didn't seem important at the time when Loki's dramatics created an unbeatable chaos. I'd been in the communications room trying to get through to the S.H.I.E.L.D office in Brazil when the explosion occurred, rocking the entire Helicarrier.

"You okay, Renard?"

"I'm fine, it's just a scratch. Asgardian or not, Loki has to pay for what he's done."

"He will."

I curtly nodded. "I should find Tony."

"I think you'll find him down on the detention level. I tried talking to him –"

"He's not the easiest to get through at the best of times. But I'll talk to him, we need to be on the same page when it comes to Loki."

"Can you bring them together?"

"Phil believed in us," I murmured with a feeble smile. "Steve was his hero…I can't let him down, not when I have the power to do something." I turned to Fury pushing all other worries aside for the time being. "I won't let his death be in vain."

I left the room, determination in my steps led me straight to the detention level where I discovered Tony and Steve mid-conversation.

"- I've heard that before." The dark edge to Tony's voice stopped me from gazing at the blood patch on the wall where Phil died.

"Is this the first time you've lost a soldier?"

"We are not soldiers!" Tony snapped, taking a threatening step towards Steve, only to notice me coming up behind him. "I'm not matching to Fury's fife."

"Neither am I!" Steve retorted calmly. "He's got the same blood on his hands that Loki does."

"Fighting amongst ourselves isn't going to solve anything," I interjected, coming to stand beside Steve. "That already gave Loki the opening he needed and now we're two steps behind him. We need to work together if we're to bring him in."

Steve nodded in agreement. "Loki needs a power source, if we can put together a list –"

"He made it personal," Tony's anger faded as the problem began to blossom into solvable pieces in his head. I couldn't help the burst of pride to see him at work.

"That's not the point," Steve argued.

"You think Loki came willingly because we were all here?" I ventured ignoring Steve.

"Exactly! That's Loki's point. He hit us all right where we live, why?"

"To tear us apart," Steve replied.

"Yeah, divide and conquer is great but he knows he has to take us out to win, right? That's what he wants. He wants to beat us, and he wants to be seen doing it. He wants an audience."

"Right, I caught his act in Stuttengard."

"Yeah, that's just a preview, this will be opening night. Loki's a full-tilt diva. He wants flowers, he wants parades, he wants a monument built to the skies with his name plastered…" Tony and I locked eyes as the same thought popped into our heads.

"Sonofabitch!" Tony said.

We all knew where Loki would strike next.


	21. Wicked Game

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE – Wicked Game**

Out of bullets, I shoved the empty Glock into its holster. A puff of breath exhaled my lips as I raised a leg, kicking a Chitauri soldier square in the chest. The alien creature appearing like something out of a film fell backwards from the violent kick, heavily denting the door of an abandoned car.

A smirk tugged at my lips as the Bowie knife whispered from its sheath. Years of training jolted my body automatically into gear. I moved towards the Chitauri, narrowing missing the intense blue beams of light shooting from their weapons to engage in the brutal manner taught to me by HYDRA long ago. No fear, no hesitation, just the promise of a gushing death.

Bodies tumbled to the ground, screams and explosions a mere distant distraction until heavy footsteps came from behind. I spun round, flicking blood off the Bowie as Steve studied the carnage with a raised eyebrow.

"This looks familiar," he remarked whilst Clint and Natasha banded together nearby, taking down their own group of Chitauri in flawless precision.

"It's almost like old times."

Steve's eyes grew suddenly wide. He sprinted towards me, raising his shield seconds before an explosion erupted at the end of the street. Bits of metal and rubble flew in various directions, bouncing off the protective strength of the shield.

"You okay, Gin?"

"Swell," I coughed out a mouthful of dust. "We're barely making a dent in their numbers, we need to come up with a better plan before they completely overrun us." I straightened up as the group came together.

Steve obtained the position of our leader, the rousing sight giving me the boost of adrenaline needed to survive whatever the day had left to reveal. "Alright listen up! Until we can close that portal our priority's containment, Barton, I want you on that roof, eyes on everything. Call out patterns and strays. Stark, you got the perimeter. Anything gets more than three blocks out, you turn it back or you turn it to ash!"

Clint turned to Tony. "Want to give me a lift?"

"Right, better clench up, Legolas." Tony grabbed Clint and they shot up into the sky while Steve continued to give the rest of us instructions.

"Thor," Steve went on "You gotta try and bottleneck that portal. Slow them down. You got the lightning, light the bastards up."

Thor smiled, the strength of his swinging hammer propelling him towards the tallest building. Steve rounded on Natasha and me, his determination flooding onto us.

"Us three, we stay here on the ground, keep the fighting here. And Hulk," the Hulk grunted in reply. "Smash."

The Hulk grinned and jumped away to continue his path of destruction.

I rubbed the back of hand across my forehead, brushing strands of hair away, only to catch Steve's vigilant stare. Whatever worries he possessed were dismissed by a curt shake of my head. I moved into a battle stance, Bowie knife posed and waiting to spill further Chitauri blood. However, movement to the left caught my attention. A flash of white lingered in the blown-out window of a building, more scared faces appearing.

"Steve! There are people trapped!" I called out to him, shoving my bowie knife into its sheath and sprinted towards the building, ignoring his shouts.

I jumped over broken concrete, like a hurdle athlete, maneuvering around abandoned cars and small fires to enter the building that turned out to be a café. Dishes and food lingered on tables, handbags and lost shoes littered the floor amongst broken glass.

 _"Gin! Answer me dammit!"_

"Not now," I muttered carefully placing one combat boot in front of the other, scanning every inch of the place for the people I'd seen.

 _"You should've let Natasha go –"_

"As usual, I think you're forgetting who you're talking to." I entered the kitchen, discovering it empty. "Besides, technically, I outrank you."

 _"That's comforting."_

I smirked at his sarcasm, jogging up the narrow staircase to the second level. A small flat held ten people, most of them cowering in a corner while the battle raged outside. "Steve, I've got a group of ten civilians, I'm going to help them get out."

 _"Do you need help?"_

"No, they look okay, apart from being terrified." I moved towards them, a middle-aged man rose from the group wearing chef whites – I'd seen him peering out the window. "My name is Gin, I'm here to help."

"Mario," the chef shook my hand. "What's going on out there?"

"Nothing good. Is there a back entrance?"

"There's a side entrance in the kitchen that leads into an alleyway, we park the delivery van there."

"Good, I want you to all follow me downstairs," I pulled the chef to one side whilst the people got up. "I need you to get everyone out of Manhattan in your van as quickly as possible."

"Who are you?" He asked.

"A friend." I motioned for the group to follow me back down the stairs. "Okay, everyone, stay close together and keep quiet."

Stepping off the staircase the café remained abandoned. The group and I headed into the kitchen, pausing only when the entire building rumbled. The cry of a child caught my attention, a young girl clinging to her whimpering mother as I hastily opened the back door into the alleyway. Mario moved pass me, sliding the van door open and climbing into the driver's seat while I ushered the group inside.

"Just stay down and together and you'll be okay."

"Thank you," the whimpering mother managed a feeble smile.

"I'm just doing my job." I slid the van door close, nodding to Mario. "Good luck."

He drove towards the end of the alleyway before cautiously pulling out into the opposite street. I breathed a sigh of relief, hoping they would find a safe way out of the city.

"Steve, the civilians got away." Receiving no reply, I raised a finger to my earpiece. "Steve? Are you there?" ignoring the sinking feeling in my stomach I jogged out of the alleyway, discovering the street bare of human life. "Barton? Natasha? It's Renard, does anyone copy?"

 _"Go for Barton."_

"Where is everyone?"

 _"Last I knew, Stark and Thor were taking down a squadron, and Nat was riding one of those alien crafts."_

"That's my girl."

I headed into the middle of the street, looking up and down. I needed to see a flash of Steve's uniform, to have the relief flood me in knowing he was safe, yet all I saw were Chitauri soldiers scaling down the buildings. Glass and debris falling superficially from the heavens as their colossal monsters weaved through the metropolitan skyline. Rapidly the time for worrying about my friends passed as the Chitauri circled like snarks smelling blood. I noticed an alien weapon lying nearby, some sort of spear with a power source, I didn't hesitate to pick it up, walking towards the Chitauri, determined in my defiance.

-x-

"Gin!"

Looking up from the grisly remains scattered around me, Steve stood nearby, working alongside Thor as they finished fighting their own assortment of Chitauri. The bulky alien weapon slipped from my grasp as I ran towards him as the last monster fell.

"Steve!" I threw myself at him, his strong arms circling my waist to keep us grounded. "When you didn't answer…" I trailed off blinking through salty tears.

"I'm okay." He forced us to break apart, raising a hand to wipe away the damp blood tickling down the side of my face. "You've torn your stitches."

"You've torn your new suit!" I smiled.

 _"I can close it. Can anybody copy? I can shut the portal down."_ Natasha's voice came through our comms. We automatically turned towards Stark Tower standing high in the distance, the blinding neon light blistering into the portal.

Steve pressed a finger to his ear. "Do it!"

 _"No wait!"_ Tony's voice came through in a rapid breath.

"Stark, these things are still coming!"

 _"I got a nuke coming in. It's gonna blow in less than a minute and I know just where to put it."_

"Stark, you know that's a one-way trip." As Steve spoke his gaze found mine, somber and honest to the point I couldn't bear it and hastily looked away.

I'd seen my fair share of death and experienced a soul crushing grief that never truly healed, but to be confronted with the prospect of losing the man I considered a son, was beyond comprehension. I lightly shook my head, stomach painfully churning as I stared hopelessly at Stark Tower.

"Tony," I pressed a finger to my earpiece, stepping away from Steve. "It's Gin, listen to me, you don't have to do this, we'll find another way."

 _"I gotta try."_

"No, you don't! I promised your parents I would protect you…I almost lost you once before, I can't go through that again!" My vision blurred the longer Chitauri soldiers and their crafts sail through the portal, seemingly never-ending and unbeatable against our small group of specialized individuals. "You can't sacrifice yourself –"

 _"You've done it all my life, old girl. Let me take care of you for once."_

A breath caught in my throat as Iron Man flew up the side of Stark Tower and sped up into the portal, disappearing into the darkness. "TONY!" The terrified scream ripped from my lips.

Steve came up beside me, eyes staring at the sky as one by one the Chitauri monsters unexpectedly plummeted like useless pieces of scrap metal.

"Close it." Steve ordered.

"NO!" I yelled shoving him away.

Thor reached for my hand as it rose in violent gesture, effortlessly holding me back against his chest when a violent explosion, bright as the sun erupted through the closing portal.

"No…" I vainly fought within Thor's grasp, the grief gnawing at my deteriorating resolve.

"Sonofagun."

My head instantly snapped up, Thor's grasp of my arm releasing as we watched something shiny and small fall from the portal seconds before it closed. "It's Tony! Someone do something!"

"He's not slowing down." Thor swung Mjolnir as Tony descended at an alarming speed.

Panicked, I reached for Steve's arm, clinging tightly when a blur of green leaped into view, catching Tony in an almighty protective swoop. High-rise buildings assisted the Hulk in slowing down enough to land atop of an abandoned cab, Tony's lifeless body thrown like a rag doll at my feet.

"TONY!" I dropped to my knees beside him, Thor ripping off the scratched metal mask exposing my godsons face.

"Is he breathing?" Steve asked crouching beside me.

I leaned over him, listening to a belated breath pass his lips. "Yes, it's faint but he's alive." I smiled down at Tony's calm features. "Come on, kid, wake up for me."

Gently shaking Tony's shoulders, I jumped at the Hulk's abrupt roar. Tony's eyes snapped open, wildly staring around as I kept him safely pinned to the ground.

"What the hell? What just happened? Please tell me nobody kissed me?"

"We won." Steve sighed gratefully, a small smile forming.

"Alright! Hey, alright. Good job, guys. Let's just not come in tomorrow. Let's just take a day. Have you ever tried shawarma? There's a shawarma joint about two blocks from here. I don't know what it is but I wanna try it."

I laughed despite the tears rolling down my face, the stress of the battle, all the fear and anger fading away as I helped Tony sit up, throwing my arms around him to hold him snugly against me. Despite the odds being against us, we'd somehow pulled together as team and won.


	22. Poison Girl

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO – Poison Girl**

Thor and Loki's departure in a blaze of Tesseract light probably wasn't the strangest sight for Central Park these days, nevertheless it brought a sense of comfort to the Avengers to know at least for the time being, Loki would be safe guarded by his brother in another realm. I waited beside Steve's motorcycle, unable to match his smile when he walked over from the parting group.

"You okay?" His smile faded and his brow furrowed at my stiff posture.

"Fury just called me."

The despair, rooted deeply within me at this point, must've been obviously splashed across my face. Steve reached for my arm, his strength holding me up in ways I was beginning to fail.

"The STRIKE team made it back to Coari, but Michael wasn't with them. He apparently got separated from the group, and his GPS tracker is switched off."

"So, is someone looking for him?"

I shrugged, fraught to keep the hopelessness at bay. "No one seems to know anything, but Fury's got a Quinjet waiting. I'm going down there to find him, no matter how long it takes or what I have to do…I'm going to find my son and bring him home."

"I'm coming with you." He pulled away climbing onto the Harley Davidson.

I reached for his arm, lightly shaking my head. "Steve, I can't ask that of you. I can do this by myself."

"But you don't have too, we're in this together." He smiled extending his hand. Whatever my nerves I accepted it, hopping onto the motorcycle behind him.

I slid my arms around his waist, holding on tight and saying a silent prayer as we sped off.

-x-

Shadows lined the corridor, chased away by bursts of sunlight falling through open doorways. Steve took the lead and I stalked his footsteps, listening to the pilot from the Quinjet direct us through the maze of the abandoned hospital – its location oddly revealed by Michael's tracker going online as we flew over Florida. I couldn't hear anything resembling human life, only the odd drip from old drains hitting the concrete floor. Deserted hospital rooms contained corroded furniture, fragments of material and blood stains littering the floors.

I adjusted the grip of my Glock, glancing into another empty room when distant murmurs erupted ahead. I quickly moved ahead without talking to Steve, heading to the end of the corridor, and found what might've been a day room for patients. Everything was cleared away through, apart from a lone chair Michael was strapped too. He appeared to be alive, despite his head being bowed, faint whimpers passed his lips and my chest expanded in my first sigh of relief in days.

"Michael!" I rushed over, holstering my weapon. I knelt before him, gently lifting his face to expose his features lost beneath a mask of bloody bruises. One eye lazily shifted in my direction, the other swollen and discolored in various shades of red and purple. "Talk to me, sweetheart, are you okay?"

"Knew you'd find me, mom," he puffed, groaning seconds later when Steve cut his hands loose. He awkwardly fell forward into my awaiting arms, his strength all but failing now he was safe.

"I'll always come for you, sweetheart, no matter what I will always find you." I hugged him carefully, fighting back the tears as he weakly returned my embrace. "You're safe now, you're safe."

"Let me take him." Steve cautiously pulled Michael away, lifting him into his arms.

I took point, quietly following the same path from the building to the waiting Quinjet, a lone figure in a parking lot surrounded by jungle. Questions plagued my thoughts, the reassurance of Michael's safety faded to be replaced with disbelief and anger. If I allowed it, the rage would cloud my judgement, taking me to a place I never wanted to go. Nerves rubbed raw, I sighed and focused on my son.

Steve set Michael down to lay across the bench seating, assisting as I hooked him up to a drip and tended to his wounds. Crusty blood lingered in his facial hair, and a scratch above his swollen eye was already well into the process of healing. My fingers lingered on his wrists, indented from straps where leather cut roughly into flesh. My own wrists once carried similar markings.

"Michael," I gently shook him awake, running a soothing hand back through his dirty blonde hair. "How long were you in that place?"

"I don't know, a few days, I guess," he mumbled.

"How did you get separated from the team?"

Deep furrow lines appeared across his forehead as he took a moment to recall the memory, tongue sliding rapidly over his cracked, parched lips. "One minute I was walking through the jungle, and then something hit me in the back of the head, and I woke up strapped to a chair."

"Did you see anyone?"

"Two guys, they wore masks, I, ah, I think…I can't remember much, it's all blurry."

I forced a feeble smile, reaching for another blanket to drape over him. "You get some sleep; we'll be home in a few hours." I sweetly kissed his forehead and moved to sit on the opposite side of the Quinjet beside Steve.

"You can say it," I murmured rubbing my hands together.

"Say what?"

"This was a message for me."

"You don't know that, Gin."

"You saw the machine, Steve, and my son was strapped into it!" I snapped abruptly, only to close my eyes and exhale a long breath. The thought of rehashing the torture suffered at HYDRA's hands would open more than just one wound.

"Okay, so who'd want to come after you?"

I shrugged. "That list is far too long to just pick one, I've been in this life too long to keep track of people I've pissed off."

"It's probably someone who knows about your past with HYDRA."

I glanced up at him. "Doesn't shorten the list much, even with most of my file being redacted, I'm sure the information can be found online somewhere these days."

"Whoever they are, they knew how to get to you."

"They're toying with me. They could have killed Michael, but they didn't. They want me wondering if the machine was used on him or not."

"Do you think it was?" He couldn't hide the concern in his tone.

"Maybe."

"Mom." I went to Michael's side as he spoke, frowning as his bloodstained fingers pulled a piece of paper from his pant pocket. "I remember they gave me this, said it was for you, you'd know what it meant."

Carefully unfolding the piece of paper, a single symbol of Russia's red star stared mockingly up at me.

"What does it mean?"

Feverish, I turned away screwing up the paper in my fist, fighting the bile rising in my throat. "It's a warning," I murmured ignoring the heat spreading across my cheeks and Steve's probing gaze. I wasn't ready to confess my most sacred secret to the one person who deserved to hear it.

"Warning about what?"

Unsure how to proceed I sighed, "No matter how deep you bury your secrets, someone will always be there to dig it up."


	23. Carry the Weight

**WORLDS APART: Part 4** **–** **Song Titles by Senses Fail**

 **CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE – Carry the Weight**

Neat writing sensibly spaced for easy reading told the life story of James Barnes, the only Howling Commando to give his life in the line of duty. I knew otherwise. Nevertheless, I read every single word as if learning about the man for the first time. I studied every piece of memorabilia located within the Captain America exhibition, impressed by the collection gathered together.

A nervous glance lowered to my left hand, where Bucky's engagement ring sat on my finger for the first time in years. Somehow on this night it felt right to have him so close to me.

"That looks as old as you."

I fought a laugh, turning towards the attractive woman standing behind me in a black column gown, bouncy waves of copper framing her young features. A coy smile curved Natasha Romanoff's red painted lips as she sipped from a champagne flute.

"I believe it's called vintage, like a fine wine."

"Whatever you need to tell yourself," she smirked taking my hand for a moment to admire the ring. "It's nice though, never picked you for the marrying type."

"I wasn't until I met the right guy."

"I assume you knew most of these guys?" She nodded her head towards the large display of the Howling Commandos uniforms.

"I did, they rescued me from HYDRA, and we fought some battles together." I smiled at Bucky's lit up portrait. "But he was my favorite."

"He was the right guy?"

"The only guy." I smiled sadly.

"Have you seen Rogers yet?"

I stopped a passing waiter, claiming a champagne flute I drained before he could leave. The moment his glowering face was out of sight, I shook my head. Even though I'd spent the better part of the past six months investigating the Winter Soldier, I hadn't uncovered a recent location. The last sighting recorded was in Odessa five years before.

"He's been asking questions," her knowing tone brought little comfort.

"I know."

"He's not stupid, Gin, he knows you're hiding something from him, and thinks I know something too."

Steve's curiosity about the red star led him straight to Natasha, who like me recognized it as the symbol on the Winter Soldier's metal arm. Her face to face confrontation with him in Odessa could've been the last mission of her life. I'd witnessed a different side to the spy, a fragile state that ultimately tied us together in friendship.

"I'm sorry you were dragged into this. I'll talk to him, there's no need for him to worry about something meant for me."

"Did you find anything?" I shook my head. "Maybe that's a good thing. Do you really want to get on _his_ radar?"

"He's not the one I'm concerned about, it's the people behind him, using him to do their bidding, and for some reason they're interested in me."

"You really believe someone's out to get you?"

I fought a weary sigh. "I'm not paranoid, Natasha."

"Then you've gotta be careful, don't go poking around in something that'll get you into a situation you can't get yourself out of." She left me with a friendly warning.

With a final glance at Bucky's display, I kept the emotional wave at bay, studying the crowd of guests, various Washington heavy hitters and family members related to the Howling Commandos. However, I couldn't find Steve's face among them. Gathering a handful of my pale yellow ballgown I went in search of him, eventually finding a passage leading to a theatre where Steve sat. Dressed in a sharp black suit and tie, he cut out a lonely figure in the dim light. I slipped carefully around a velvet rope blocking the entrance, walking over to rest a hand on my friends burdened shoulder.

"If you want to run away, at least let me tag along."

He looked up in surprise, a smile gradually forming. "I didn't think you were back till next week."

"Well, I figured you might need some support, being that the exhibition puts an uncomfortable spotlight on you." I smirked moving around to sit on the bench beside him. Peggy's features lit up the wall before us, an interview piece from the fifties. "I remember her telling me about this."

"You do?"

"They wanted to know about the day we stormed the HYDRA base, and Captain America's last conversation." We glanced knowingly at each other. "It's strange, even to me to see the past displayed so openly for everyone to see."

"They haven't mentioned you anywhere," he commented with confusion rather than surprise.

"I'm an ugly footnote. It doesn't bother me as much as it used it, sometimes it's nice to linger in the shadows."

He reached for my hand, lifting it slightly to show off Bucky's ring in the glow of the film reel. "Haven't seen you wear this before."

"I thought it might be nice to wear. He's been on my mind lately." I admitted.

"I'm sorry you two never got the life you wanted."

"We made the best of the time we had together, which is more than you and Peg got." I rested my head on his shoulder, linking my arm with his, watching Peggy become upset the longer she recalled her memories of Steve to the surface.

"Are you gonna tell me about your trip to Europe?"

"There's nothing to tell." I glanced up at him, seeing his jaw tighten, teeth grinding to fight back what he obviously wanted to say.

"I asked Natasha about the picture Michael had, and she got the same worried look you did but wouldn't say anything." He shifted uncomfortably beside me, drawing his arm from my grasp. "You don't need to keep secrets from me, Gin."

"Natasha doesn't have anything to do with this." I stated firmly. "And if I do have secrets from you, I take no pleasure in keeping them."

Roughly sighing he rose from the bench. "So, you are hiding something from me?"

"We all have our roles to play, Steve –"

"What the hell does that mean?" He snapped abruptly; his usual calm shattered by my selfish intentions.

"It means I came home early because I heard Michael's been fast tracked into STRIKE."

"I thought he decided he didn't want to join them?"

I nodded, "He did, but apparently Secretary Pierce has convinced him otherwise. Rumlow is going to be his SO." I stood, smoothing out the faint wrinkles in my gown to give my hands something to do other than curl into fists of fury.

"When did you two last talk?"

"It's been a couple of months," I admitted staring at the screen, fearful my emotions would finally break through my fragile control. "He thinks I'm holding him back, hurting his chance to make a name for himself."

The torment of Michael's kidnapping and his obvious attempts to push me away kept me up at night. Fear weighted heavily on me like a stone carried on my shoulders, and eventually I'd have to face the sad truth of the situation – I had to let my son live his life the way he saw fit and support him best I could from the sidelines.

"He's a good agent, tough and stubborn as you are, but he knows his job." Steve replied.

I faintly smiled at his silver lining approach, reaching for his hand. "Promise me you'll keep an eye on him for me?"

"Course. You're not going away again, are you?"

"No, but I was thinking about moving back to Washington, I have a home there and I can be closer to Michael."

"You'll have your secrets for company, at least."

"Touché. You know how to kick a girl when she's down." We wore matching feeble smiles. "How about I buy you a drink?"

"Sure."

It was an uncomfortable truce, something we both wearily accepted for the time being. But the day where Steve's curiosity got the better of him was around the corner, and I'd yet to come up with a convincing lie to hold our friendship intact when I was finally exposed.

* * *

 _REVIEWS ALWAYS WELCOMED._


	24. Every Day Is A Struggle

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR – Every** **D** **ay Is A Struggle**

The sun hung low in the sky, taking its warmth with it as I crossed the vast concrete space of the Triskelion's entrance. Agents in uniformed business attire went about their day, some gathering in small groups to chat whilst others moved with certain purpose to their destination. I recalled the long years it was under construction, both Peggy and Howard a force in establishing what was now S.H.I.E. main headquarters.

I didn't expect to see a familiar face until Michael's features appeared within the crowd.

"Michael!" I called with a burst of happiness in my chest, walking towards my son kitted out in S.T.R.I.K.E attire. "Michael Renard!"

"What?" The twenty-five-year-old man carried himself like an agent, no openness to him, as if I was nothing more than dirt on his shoe when he finally looked up from his cellphone.

"Is that really how we're going to start things?" I asked softly, hurt.

Pale blue eyes once filled with curiosity and love, now portrayed a storm of emotion I couldn't quite read, yet alone understand. "I'm not starting anything, I'm needed upstairs."

"I think you can give me five minutes."

"My SO would say otherwise."

"I outrank your SO," the sharpness in my tone erupted at his disrespect. Michael merely sighed and looked around, making me feel like a fool. "All I want is five minutes to talk to my son. You don't call or answer my messages –"

"I'm working, and when I'm not working, I'm training."

"That doesn't stop you from making a call." I reached for his arm only to be shrugged off as fingertips brushed his jacket.

"Y'know, most parents would be proud if their kid had achieved everything I have." His snappish retort was a further slap in the face.

"You told me you were reconsidering your options; you weren't sure if S.T.R.I.K.E was the right fit for you."

"No, mom, you decided it wasn't right for me!" He bit back, shaking his head to fight down his evident irritation. "The biggest opportunity of my career gets screwed up 'cause of you and your past. I'm damn lucky Secretary Pierce believes I'm an asset to the team, without him I'd probably be suck behind a desk."

"You don't have to be in the field to be a hero, you know that, Michael."

"Do I say, not as I do, right?" He rolled his eyes, stewing in his revulsion of me. "I earned my way on the team. Everything I've got I worked for; I didn't need any enhancements to get a title!"

Aghast I stepped back. "Why would you say something like that?"

"You're not a hero, mom, you're a running joke around here – the woman who thinks she's Captain America. Everyone just thinks you're some Nazi slut who got lucky. You're not an Avenger, you're a genetic experiment gone wrong and don't belong here anymore."

He pushed pass me on his way indoors. His words jolted my breaking heart like a bolt of lightning. Helplessly rooted to the spot, I struggled to fight down the emotions threatening to crush me at the sudden demise of my most precious relationship. It wasn't the first time I'd been slapped with words like that, disgusting terms and dark looks plaguing enough of my career. Yet to hear them spoken venomously from my own son, it took a couple of deep breath before the rough beat of my heart could be calmed enough to head indoors for my meeting with Fury.

-x-

"Do you want me to talk to him?" Fury posed the question after I finished venting about my painful conversation with Michael, effortlessly unloading my torrent of emotions on him.

I shook my head, nursing a glass of whiskey, unable to heal the wounds Michael's words triggered. "Something's got him twisted up, nothing I say or anyone apart from his S.T.R.I.K.E buddies will penetrate his thick skull."

"He was outta line," Fury remarked with a tinge of anger. Sometimes I forgot what a big part of Michael's life he'd been.

"I know." I drained the glass, leaving it on Fury's desk. "I've never seen him like this before. Even when we disagreed about his application to the academy, he never spoke to me like that. We've always been able to talk out everything."

"Y'think it was the effects of his kidnapping?" He frowned, voicing my deepest concerns.

"I wish I could blame that, but all his brain scans and blood work were clear." I walked over to the large window displaying a breathtaking view of Washington, searching for an answer only to discover my blank reflection. "I don't know what's happening to him. I've lost him somehow, and I can't see how to get him back."

"I'll keep an eye on him."

"I'd appreciate that," I smiled feebly.

"Since you're back in town have you thought about what you'll do?"

"No."

Before leaving for Europe I stood down from the recruitment department in New York, deciding to purely focus my attention on finding leads in Michael's kidnapping. As I'd suspected, what little I managed to dig up led to dead ends, just like my search for the Winter Soldier. Even after my last exchange with him, he remained a ghost, untraceable despite my extensive sources.

"Do you have something in mind?" I frowned.

"Secure office."

Blinds descended automatically over the windows as the office went into a secure lockdown. Fury's solemn features got my gut twisting nervously.

"Is everything okay?"

"I need you to stay away from here for a while. I think you were right to be suspicious of Michael's quick advancement," he sighed, reaching for a USB on his desk. "And I think Project Insight has to be delayed."

"That won't impress the Council, they're betting on those ships to be what they believe the Avengers can't."

"It could be nothing, probably is. I just need time to make sure, but I could use you under deep shadow conditions."

I curtly nodded my head, appreciating his concern wasn't something to be dismissed, especially when our minds appeared to be following the same train of thought. "My house here is equipped with everything I need, shouldn't be too hard to stay under the radar."

"That means keeping your distance from Rogers."

"I think he has enough on his plate right now, he won't be a problem."

"You losing him too?"

I couldn't bring myself to answer and my face must've expressed it because Fury solemnly nodded.

"I'll be in contact," he remarked.

"Copy that."

Fury lifted his security measures, and I departed, heading for the elevators.

I considered visiting Peggy on my way home, turning to the one person in my life who was on my side, whether she remembered it or not. Her council, no matter the issue always kept me on the right path.

At the sound of the doors parting, I looked up to the smiling face of Alexander Pierce. A well-dressed man in his later years of life, we'd only met a handful of times over the years, our paths usually crossing in the aftermath of an incident. To have heard Michael speak so fondly of him earlier, did nothing to expel my dislike of the man.

"Agent Renard, this is a nice surprise."

"Secretary Pierce," I shook his hand when he extended it to me.

"It's been some time since I've seen you around here, could you spare me a few minutes?"

"Of course, sir," I smiled politely despite the obviously feeling of a trapped animal. "Maybe I haven't been around here in a while, but I recall receiving your emails when you went over my head to accept recruits I'd rejected."

"What you saw as flaws, I saw as an opportunity, the chance to mold young minds to our cause."

"One of those young minds you want to mold belongs to my son," I stated pointedly.

"I have to admit, I've had my eye on Michael since he joined the academy, who wouldn't jump at the chance to have the child of the Widowmaker under their wing?" He spoke jovially, as if our conversation could've been small talk.

I stared at the lit-up panel as the door opened, realizing the elevator had gone up instead of down. I truly was trapped.

"I've got something in my office I'd like to show you."

Departing the elevator, I followed Pierce into his office, much like Fury's, he motioned for me to take a seat on the leather couch while he collected a file off his desk. I eyed the exit, deciding the stairs would be a better escape rather than risk getting ensnared by someone else.

"I had this dug out of the archives when Michael joined S.T.R.I.K.E."

He placed a tightly crammed manila folder before me, opening it to the first page, revealing a weathered photograph of myself when I officially joined S.H.I.E.L.D in 1947. My jaw clicked out the building tension.

"You've probably never seen your personal file."

"I lived it," I flicked through a couple of pages. "No need to reread reports or attempt to decipher what isn't redacted."

"Unfortunately, there's a large chuck of your career missing, your time as a HYDRA agent is barely noted."

I tired to swallow through the lump rapidly forming in my throat.

"Even under their reign you were an exceptional agent, tactical and vicious in your methods. You were devoted to the cause, even a dalliance with your instructor, Boris Schneider and subsequent medical procedure didn't stop you from completing missions."

A gruesome feeling washed over me. Pierce's careful choice of words brought a hot flush to my cheeks, spreading uncomfortably across my body. Of all the secrets I kept close, the reasoning behind HYDRA destroying my womb was one I'd never told.

Taking my silence as his cue, Pierce continued.

"Despite all that, you've been one of the finest agents we've had, and when you moved into recruitment, you turned out some of the finest agents S.H.I.E.L.D's seen in years. Yet, there's one case that caught my eye."

He reached for another file and extended it to me. Cautiously accepting it, the worn file numbers didn't mean much but the revealing codename inside made me abruptly toss the folder at the coffee table.

"You've had dealings with the Winter Soldier in the past, haven't you, Agent Renard?"

"He's a ghost story, how can one know if they've dealt with him or not?" I played dumb, hoping my face portrayed a mask of indifference. "For all I know it's just a name that gets tossed around."

"I happen to know otherwise, and I'm glad to see you do too," he faintly smiled, whether it be at my discomfort or knowing he was right. "What was your meeting with Nick Fury about?"

"There was no meeting, I just dropped by to ask him to keep an eye on Michael for me."

"You have concerns?" He teased.

"A great many of them," I rose from the couch, awkwardly tugging the ends of my blazer. "And Fury's the only man I trust around here."

"I can assure you, Agent Renard, Michael is surrounded by the best men I have."

I glanced at the Winter Soldier file and then Pierce. "If you would excuse me, I've got errands to run."

"We'll continue this another time, I'm sure." He spoke thoughtfully as I stalked out of the office, exhaling a long breath and none the wiser about anything other than he knew something about the Winter Soldier.

* * *

 _REVIEWS ALWAYS WELCOMED._


	25. Can't Be Saved

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE – Can't Be Saved**

The three-storied townhouse in Georgetown was chosen for its proximity to Peggy's house, and the Triskelion. Of all the properties I'd owned over the years, this one always possessed a special place in my heart. With a light breeze airing out the space, a box of Michael's toys remained tucked away beside a leather couch in the family room, his prized stuffed tiger tucked within the pile of G.I Joes and army vehicles.

Reaching for the stuffed tiger, I hugged it against my chest, heading upstairs to the main floor where the kitchen and dining room were located, pausing on the threshold as a shiver ran down my spine. The tiny hairs on the back of my rose in anticipation, alerting me to something not quite right.

Setting the stuffed tiger on the kitchen counter I headed out onto the terrace, gazing around the enclosed garden, resembling something close to a contained jungle. The back gate remained locked and nothing else appeared out of place, yet I couldn't shake the feeling I wasn't completely alone. I rubbed my arms for an instant burst of heat and went back inside, endeavoring to convince myself the stress of a long day had worn me out. Stealing a glass from the cupboard and a wine bottle from the freshly stocked fridge I headed back downstairs to distract myself with some trashy television.

-x-

The harsh shrill of my cellphone abruptly woke me. Cursing, my hands fumbled over my body, locating the vibrating object in a pant pocket while late night commercials played in the background.

"Hello?" I drew myself from being awkwardly draped across the leather couch, surprised to hear a familiar female voice deliver a message I never expected to hear. "I'm on my way."

Jumping up from the couch, I grabbed a jacket and my keys running from the house.

A frantic pace controlled my steps, rushing me pass a navy and black blur of S.H.I.E.L.D agents and local cops. The fear of the unknown tore at my insides until Steve emerged in the distance. My leather jacket flapped behind me as I raced to reach him, throwing myself into his arms.

"I heard someone shot up your apartment, and a man was injured…" my heated breath pulsed against his neck as he held me tightly. For a moment everything felt right in the world, my worries fading as I clung almost desperately to my best friend. "I thought –" I broke off as he abruptly pulled away.

"I'm okay, but Fury isn't."

"Fury? What was he doing at your place?"

He shrugged, casting a sideways glance at a passing agent. "The shot went straight through a brick wall into him. Didn't see it coming."

"None of this makes any sense. I only saw Fury this morning," I murmured grasping his muscular arms, fighting through the disbelief to obtain some logic or motive. "Was the shooter after you or him?"

"He wanted Fury and didn't care who got in the way," he heavily sighed. "I chased him but he got away."

Having witnessed Steve in action I couldn't comprehend the thought of a target escaping his hold. My confused stare lifted to his melancholy features. "What do you mean he got away?"

"He was fast, strong. He caught my shield easily with one hand."

The torment of losing the shooter was all too visible and I decided not to press the matter.

"Where is Fury? I need to see him."

"It's too late, they couldn't save him." Steve's somber words hit me hard, pounding against my already brittle resolve.

"Gin!"

Pulling away from Steve, I hastily brushed my hands across my damp cheeks, facing Natasha who walked rapidly towards us. Her beautiful features shaped into measured misery collapsed as she reached for me, our arms enfolding each other.

"Did he tell you?" Her lips moved swiftly against my ear.

"Just now about Fury."

"Not the shooter?"

I released her, frowning. "Only that he got away, what else is there?"

She looked over at Steve, lowering her voice as she spoke in Russian. "It was a soviet slug; no rifle link and he had a metal arm."

"Are you sure?" Natasha's nod confirmed my worst fears. The lingering ache in my soul I'd been feeling for weeks finally had a cause. "Shit. I should've known…I should've seen this coming."

"You're going after him, aren't you?"

I couldn't bring myself to answer, Steve's eyes burning into my back made it difficult to process my next move despite knowing I'd already run every scenario through my head only to discover the answer the same.

"I want to see Fury." I announced loudly, waiting for Steve to approach before giving Natasha's hand a quick squeeze. "Don't worry, I'll take care of it."

Her jaw tightened as she stepped aside, and I followed Steve. An absolute calm overcame me the moment I walked into the morgue. The footsteps behind me faded as I allowed my mind to take a short trip down memory lane. I'd spent the better part of Fury's career working at his side, and half expected never to witness this moment – he always seemed invincible, and like me an unbreakable force.

I paused beside the gurney, exhaling a long breath as I stared down at one of the greatest men I'd ever known. I couldn't help a small smile, thinking Fury finally looked at peace.

"I'll see you soon, old friend." I bent down to kiss his cool forehead, and then went back to stand beside Steve.

"You okay?"

My damp gaze lifted his face, the concern merely adding to the burden of guilt already weighing heavily upon my shoulders. "Do you trust me?"

"Yeah," he replied unsurely.

"Steve, do you trust me?" I faced him, placing a hand to his chest where his heart thumped strong and true. "Right here, deep in your soul, do you trust I have your best intentions in mind?"

"Yes." His second reply came with no hesitation.

"Then you have to let me go –"

"- Go where?"

"There's something I have to do –"

"- C'mon, Gin," he groaned. "Don't run off on some secret mission again. Let me in, you obviously know something I don't, let me help you."

"I can't. I've got another path I have to follow, and I didn't see it till now that everything in my life has been building towards this moment." I thought of the weapon Bucky had been turned into and blinked back tears. "I just hope one day you'll understand and forgive the part I've played."

"What do you mean?" He quietly begged for knowledge and truth, confused beyond belief that I persistently kept him outside my circle of knowledge.

No matter how it pained me, I felt justified in keeping him in the dark. I could've reasoned with myself all I wanted that my secrets protected my loved ones, that somehow, I was saving Steve from the terrible truth I didn't think he was ready to hear. But I knew when he finally learnt the truth about Bucky, a part of him would never forgive me. That reality scared me.

"I just need you to know that you're my family, and I love you."

"Gin…"

I reached up and sweetly kissed him before hastily departing for what could be my final mission. I had to save Bucky, no matter the cost.

* * *

 _REVIEWS ALWAYS WELCOMED._


	26. Lost & Found

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX – Lost & Found**

Night claimed the sky as I parked the rental vehicle a block away from my intended target. Sounds of traffic hummed in the background, and the streetlamp in the distance created the odd appearance of a spotlight. Something about the tainted light drew up the hairs on the back of my neck as I grabbed my Glock from the bag in the passenger seat. Nerves always hit me at the beginning of a mission, the taste of adrenaline pushing me off the cliff of unknown – no matter the preparation, there was always a chance of a good plan being derailed.

Determined in my movements, I shoved a Glock in the back of my pants as I climbed out of the vehicle and headed off.

Unexpectedly, the landscaped grounds were oddly empty of security. I'd expected a handful of agents to be roaming the perimeter, yet as I made my way up to the modern house owned by Alexander Pierce, I remained undetected. I jimmied a bathroom window open just managing to squeeze myself through the opening and into a bathtub. Glock drawn I quietly left the bathroom, where two voices floating down the window lined corridor sounded hospitable, but kept me positioned in the protective shadow of a door.

The plan was simple, confront Pierce and get the bastard to tell me everything he knew about the Winter Soldier. My mind struggled to believe his questioning about the Winter Soldier and Fury being shot by a man with a metal arm was just a coincidence.

A gunshot snapped me to attention. Years spent in the field jolted my body into action. Following the corridor, I entered a vast living space where a grand piano was to my right and a woman bled out on the floor a meter ahead of me. Glock raised; Pierce rose from the dining table.

"Agent Renard, this is a surprise."

"Put your weapon down," I ordered calmly. "We need to have an uncomfortable conversation."

He faintly smiled setting his gun on the table. "I revealed too much, didn't I?"

"Yes. You could've only heard about what Boris did to me from one of three people who were there, and I killed all but one of them."

"Doctor Zola was an asset," he replied simply, gaze glancing over me.

A punch to the kidney abruptly halted my actions. Pain shot up my body, as the Glock slipped from my grasp. A sharp hiss escaped my lips as I spun round coming face to face with the man who twisted my dreams into nightmares.

"Bucky –"

I blocked his fist flying towards me, countering with an open-handed slap to the face and brisk kick to the midsection. He huffed, hate blazing in his narrowing eyes as his advanced skills kicked in. An aggressive punch to the nose stunned me. I could only make out a blur of black through my watery gaze. He hooked his leg around mine and slammed me to the floor.

"Agent Renard, you're becoming a painful thorn in my side." Pierce stood behind Bucky, staring down. "I assume you think you're doing this out of loyalty to Nick?"

"He was a good man."

Bucky's metal hand pressed to my chest kept me pinned to the floor, air slowly departing my lungs beneath his crushing power.

"You should know, he always considered you his best, not that he'd admit it. He'd probably even let it slide that you knew the identity of the asset, and let him go, twice."

My gaze shifted between Pierce and Bucky; whose concentration was absorbed in keeping me restrained. "You know more than you should."

"Shame you didn't figure that out before now." His mocking smile sent a tremor of fear through me. "I'll take her with me."

Bucky clutched a handful of my t-shirt, effortlessly hauling me to my feet. Cold metal fingers clamped around my arm, squeezing flesh as we followed Pierce from the house to a waiting black SUV.

-x-

Entering the bank, an uneasy feeling overcame over me, an unmistakable chill I hadn't experienced in many years. Two S.T.R.I.K.E soldiers roughly held me, having watched over me all day in the bowels of the bank, they now stalked Pierce's traitorous footsteps.

Faith and duty blinded me to the reality of HYDRA's influence slipping through the cracks, infecting S.H.I.E.L.D right under my nose. I should've known it wasn't over when Schmidt died. I should've seen the signs long before the truth erupted, destroying everything I held dear.

Given the chance I could've easily disarmed the soldiers and broke Pierce's neck. The rage bubbling beneath the surface would've spurred me on, but I refrained, thinking of my training. A very specific plan operated within the group, and I needed to bide my time, wait for a mistake to take advantage of. So, I played the captive, trying not to let my thoughts dwell on what Bucky's order might've been – what bodies would show up in the news cycle.

I never expected to be confronted by the sight suddenly before me. It took every ounce of self-control to swallow the bile building in my throat.

"Bucky!" My heartfelt cry echoed around the room, the soldiers' boots sliding across the floor when I stepped forward, only to freeze when a handful of weapons aggressively turned on Bucky.

The man they knew as the asset sat shirtless in a chair connected to numerous machines monitoring his vitals. I recognized it as a cutting-edge model of the electronic device HYDRA used to wipe my memory during the war. In that horrid moment of seeing the love of my life, my heart broke to comprehend what he'd probably been forced to endure all these years.

"Mission report," Pierce ordered, receiving no reply from Bucky. "Mission report, now."

A violent slap drew Bucky's puzzled expression back to the present.

"The man on the bridge…who was he?" He questioned quietly.

"You met him earlier this week on another assignment."

"I knew him."

My heart thumped like a raging thunderstorm. The Bucky Barnes I knew emerged through HYDRA's longstanding conditioning, recalling someone familiar. Whoever it was, gave me hope Bucky could come back to me.

"Your work has been as gift to mankind. You shaped this century, and I need you to do it one more time. Society is at a tipping point between order and chaos. Tomorrow morning we're gonna give it a push, but if you don't do your part, I can't do mine, and HYDRA can't give the world the freedom it deserves."

"But I knew him." Bucky whispered forlornly.

Pierce turned to the scientists. "Prep him."

"He's been out of cryo-freeze too long," they explained, keep a cautious distance between themselves and Bucky.

"Then wipe him and start over."

"NO!" I threw the soldiers off me, ramming the heel of my hand up into the nose of one, and punched the other in the throat. "Bucky!"

His confused stare lifted to meet mine as I dropped to my knees before him.

"It's Genevieve…Gin Renard," I grabbed his face, thumbs brushing over his defeated features. "We always find our way back to each other, remember? No matter what you always find me, Bucky."

"You're making a fool of yourself, Renard."

Torn away from Bucky, the anger radiated off me, my fingers trembling as they curled into hard fists. Pierce shook his head, standing before me.

"You make a move for him again, and you'll be strapped into that chair next. HYDRA is still inside of you, deep down you've always known they never truly left you. One false move and I promise you'll never recognize the face of your son again."

"Where is Michael?"

"At the Triskelion, awaiting my orders."

Tearfully Bucky's tormented face haunted me, his brow furrowing as he stared back at me. He'd been used, deceived and hurt, crossing time and delivering death as HYDRA's personal Reaper. As much as I wanted to save him, I couldn't risk losing my son. Uncurling my fingers, S.T.R.I.K.E agent Rollins trained his weapon on me.

"Give me a reason, Renard."

I relaxed in the grasp of my captors, yet my head remained stubbornly held high.

Bucky fell back into the chair as doctors began prepping him, taking the mouth guard as he must've done a hundred times over the years. I fought every instinct to look away, an unholy shiver rolling down my spine as the robotic panels aligned against Bucky's head. A switch flicked and several shuddering volts slammed into him. His entire body contracted, straining against the restraints as painful screams laced with the electric agony bounced off the walls.

The sight disturbed most of the staff who possessed a conscience, but Pierce merely turned on his heel walking away. With a sharp push to my lower back, Rumlow forced me to follow Pierce, Bucky's cries haunting my every step.

* * *

 _REVIEWS ALWAYS WELCOMED._


	27. Handguns & Second Chances

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN – Handguns & Second Chances**

Leaning against the wall of unused safety deposit boxes, I pushed myself off the cool metal as the door opened revealing Bucky, the mask of the Winter Soldier firmly fixed in place – his mind wipe successful.

Pierce entered the small room and embracing my hatred, I stepped up to him, slapping him fiercely across the face. He merely smiled, proudly rubbing the mark of rage. I should've known better than to give into my emotions and confront Pierce when he possessed the upper hand.

"You have lived up to every expectation HYDRA held for you, Renard, but now the time has come to put you out of your misery." He motioned to Bucky.

His vacant, uncaring stare frightened me – impaling me to the spot chosen for my death. If he remembered me from earlier, he didn't have the memory now.

"I want you to put a bullet in her head, make it look like suicide and report to me afterwards."

Bucky's gaze never left mine, even when my body awkwardly twitched with the slamming door, his disciplined form only added to the eeriness.

"I don't know if it's possible," I began pulling a folded piece of paper from my pant pocket, extending it to Bucky. "But I wrote a letter to my son, Michael Renard, could you see he gets it?"

My hand hung seemingly ages between us two old soldiers before Bucky took the letter, shoving it into a pocket.

"I don't expect him to understand why I came after you. Truth is, my love for you seems to make me irrational, all I see is you. All I want is you."

The same hand drew a weapon from its holster, my cheeks itching as the first few tears rolled down my face. Nevertheless, a feeble smile presented itself as I realized the last sight, I'd see on this earth would be the man I loved. It was a minor comfort, a bitter silver lining to the end of a long life.

Bucky's finger tensed on the trigger when I stepped towards him, hands running over the leather jacket to linger on his heart. The calm beat beneath my palm unexpectedly jumped as I stared up into the tempest brewing in his blue eyes. He struggled with the intimate touch, brow furrowing as my hands rose to cup his bristly face before reaching up to kiss him.

"I love you, James Barnes." I fondly whispered pulling away. "You do what you have too. If I can't save you, I know Steve will, so don't you feel guilty when you remember this moment. Just know, you were the brightest part of my life."

I stepped back, lips releasing a shaky breath.

If he cared for me at all, he gave no sign until he returned the weapon to its holster. Relief flooded my entire being and I threw myself back him, arms embracing him.

"I knew you couldn't do it, you never can!" I clung frantically to him until cold steel plunged directly into me. Exhaling a sharp breath, my gaze fell to the blade sticking out of my side as I staggered back.

The first scarlet drops rolled over my hands, staining flesh. The stink of copper swamped my senses, distracting me from the biting pain of the wound and Bucky's method of execution. Faint and feverish, I faltered backwards, tripping over my feet as my knees gave out beneath me. Instead of meeting the hard surface of the floor, Bucky scooped me up into his arms. His warmth transferred to me as his familiar scent brought a long-lost comfort.

I whimpered into his neck, feeling every step rattle through me until he mercifully set me down across the backseat of a sedan.

Lights passed around us as he sped through the night. I fought through the chill forming in my limbs, trying to focus on steady breaths and not the dampness spilling around my fingers holding the knife in place.

"Why didn't you kill me?" I murmured glancing towards the driver's seat.

"I don't know," Bucky replied quietly, hands gripping the steering wheel.

"If Pierce finds out –"

"He won't."

I cried out when we abruptly stopped.

"You'll be fine, your strong."

I watched Bucky climb out of the sedan, slamming the door behind him. Closing my eyes, I listened for some sign of our whereabouts, amazed to hear voices. They rapidly approached, seconds before a rough knock against the window made my eyes open.

"You can't park here…oh shit! Someone get help!" A panicky voice called as the back door flew open, the stern features of a male in nurse scrubs sent me into a peaceful darkness.

-x-

Lazily if not stubbornly so, my eyelids parted. The fog of a long sleep clouded my gaze, the darkness of the room enclosing me.

"Hello?" My throat grumbled like two pieces of sandpaper shoved together. A low groan vibrated as my fingers slid over the woolen blend blanket covering me, until they collided with something hard and cold.

I blinked rapidly, senses swimming to fight through the chemical spell, as the cool surface moved beneath my fingers.

"Stop moving," a gruff voice ordered me still.

My heart roughly jolted, a heart monitor echoing the movement beside me. I went to grasp the coldness, only to have it ripped away.

"Bucky?" I whispered through the tremor running through me. "You're here?"

"You're weak, you need to rest."

"Where's Pierce?"

"Gone."

"Did you –"

"No."

Tears rolled down my face, tickling my senses as they woke. I couldn't see him clearly but could feel he was beside me. I awkwardly raised my hand, blindly grasping out for him, just a touch to know he was real. "Will you stay with me?"

"They'll be looking for me."

Footsteps lighter than expected crossed the room.

"Please, don't go, just stay…I'll answer any questions you have or stay silent. Whatever you want, Bucky…just stay. Don't leave me…please, don't leave me."

The door opened and closed as the ghost of my love disappeared. Grasping the blankets tightly, I sobbed openly for the first time in years.

-x-

A rustling sound made me open my eyes, sun drenched was the room, but my sleepy gaze fixed on Michael awkwardly adjusting himself in the bedside chair.

"Michael?"

He grimaced. "Sorry, didn't meant to wake you, mom."

"What are you doing here?" I carefully made the bed sit me up, running another hand back through the tangled ends of my bed hair. "What happened to you?" I motioned to his left arm in a cast, and various scratches and bruises littered across his face.

"Karma," his brow furrowed deeply as he glanced down at his cast. "I was in the Triskelion waiting for Security Pierce when it came down, got knocked out by some falling debris and woke up in the back of an ambulance."

"Are you okay?"

"I've been a jerk to you and you still show concern?" the corners of his mouth turned up.

I extended my hand to him, smiling softly when he accepted it. "You were no match for Pierce's manipulation. He saw your ambition and used it to his advantage."

"I said some pretty shitty things to you." Even beneath the facial injuries his regret was apparent, hurting my soul as I squeezed his hand, reassuring him I was still in his corner, no matter what.

"I don't blame you for wanting out of my shadow, to carve a career that's all your own merit. It was part of the reason why I didn't want you to become an agent, I didn't want you to carry the burden of being my son."

"It's not a burden, mom," he sighed. "I'm proud of everything you've done for this country, I mean, after everything you went through, you never gave up. Not that it matters much now S.H.I.E.L.D's gone."

"Sometimes to find out who you are and what you stand for you need to peel back to the basics. A little rebuilding never hurt anyone, you being here is proof of that."

"Does that mean you're gonna tell me who stabbed you?" Hands still clasped together he shifted out of the chair to perch himself on the edge of the bed. "Don't even bother to lie, I talked to your doctor before coming in."

"It was Bucky –"

" – wait a minute…Bucky as in Bucky Barnes?"

I sighed, "He is or at least was the Winter Soldier."

"Holy shit! Did you know that?" A sheepish glance and he lightly shook his head. "Christ, mom!"

"I didn't know he was under HYDRA's influence all this time. Pierce was using him to do his dirty work, that I know because he ordered Bucky to kill me."

"So why aren't you dead?" Michael's confusion could never be explained away with words. I didn't have the answers myself to what made Bucky reconsider putting a bullet in my head.

"I don't know, I really don't. But I was present when he was…" I swallowed through the lump forming, body awkwardly twitching as I recalled the jolts of electricity snapping through my being as they had Bucky's at the bank vault.

"Mom," Michael's voice called me back, concerned blue eyes focused on me.

"Pierce forced me to watch as they wiped his memory." I refused to look Michael in the eye, focusing on the thin crisscross pattern of the blankets. "The same procedure I was compelled to during the war."

"So, me being taken in South America was a message to you?"

"Yes, I tried to find out if the Winter Soldier was active again but couldn't find anything."

"It was probably Pierce, trying to push us apart, and pull me in." Michael put the pieces together faster than I had, swearing under his breath as he slipped off the bed.

"I should've figured all of this out before it was too late, I'm sorry, it shouldn't have gotten as far as it did."

The guilt seeped from me, years' worth of it irreversibly rupturing through all the cracks in my once sturdy resolve. In the manic days I'd faced, everything around me crumbled and for the first time in years, the path before me was uncertain.

"I don't blame you, not for a second, mom. We all got played." He turned back to me with a small smile. "You're one helluva spy, mom, I don't know how you keep all those secrets intact."

"It's not something to be proud of, my actions have put people in danger, cost…I don't know how many lives, all because I wanted to protect one man. If I'd said something earlier –"

"You don't know if that would've changed anything." His reason was comforting. "Do you know where Barnes is?"

I shook my head. "Hopefully far away from here."

"You know you should've told Steve, right?"

"I know, and I'll have to face him eventually, but for now, I could really go for some pudding."

"I'll ask the cute nurse down the hall to get us some." He smiled.

"Make sure you get the pudding before you get her number!"

Michael laughed disappearing out of the room.

* * *

 _REVIEWS ALWAYS WELCOMED._


	28. Dreaming A Reality

**CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT – Dreaming A Reality**

Propped against the pillows after running a comb through my hair, I nervously watched Steve enter my hospital room, closing the door behind him. I'd seen the continuing coverage on the news of the Triskelion's destruction and listened to Natasha's firsthand account of the events the day before when I was finally allowed visitors. But none of it prepared me for the confrontation I was about it endure.

Steve's face portrayed the healing wounds inflicted by his encounter with Bucky. From what Natasha told me the beating was severe enough to land him in hospital. I didn't doubt that considering my own circumstances.

"How are you feeling?"

"Suddenly apprehensive," I replied, the corners of his lips twitched slightly. He'd learnt his best friend was alive, and now he knew I'd kept it from him.

"I was told you were found unconscious outside the hospital, bleeding to death in the back of a car."

I considered not saying anything, yet the mistrust in his eyes and the fragile ties of our friendship drew an explanation from my lips. "I went to Pierce's house, to confront him. I've never liked the man, so when he cornered me the other day and started asking questions about the Winter Soldier and bringing up things about my past, I got suspicious."

"What kind of things?"

"Things that happened while I was under HYDRA's control."

"So, he read your file." Steve shrugged.

"No, the things he knew weren't recorded. He would've had to hear them from someone who'd been there." My gaze drifted from Steve's intense stare, to my hands fiddling with the blanket. "He knew about…" I closed my eyes briefly, exhaling a shaky breath. "I know there were certain facts recorded about what I did, those were enough to torment Bucky and I didn't have the heart to tell him or even Peggy things were so much worse than that."

"I'm sorry."

I shrugged off his heartfelt words, ignoring the burn in my cheeks. "It doesn't justify anything I've done since." I glanced up at him. "I didn't know Fury faked his death. Part of the reason I went after Pierce was because I thought Fury was gone…there was no one to stop me from acting on impulse."

"He said he didn't know about Bucky."

"I never told anyone; it was my foolish attempt to protect him." Despite the obvious blurring of my gaze and the losing battle to keep the tears at bay, I looked up at Steve, desperate to make him understand my deceit. "After everything he'd been through, I couldn't give S.H.I.E.L.D a name and face to hunt down. Even if he wasn't the Bucky we knew, I couldn't willingly give him up. I had to protect him, whatever the cost."

"You should've told me," he retorted, visibly hurt.

"How could I? How could I even begin to explain what he'd been put through?" I cried softly.

"The last thing I needed was another person lying to me!" He snapped bitterly, and then sighed shaking his head. "How can I trust you?"

"You can't…I know I'm in the wrong…I know there's nothing I won't do when it comes to Bucky and it terrifies me sometimes." Defeated I put my head in my hands and wept.

The bed dipped beside me, Steve's arms enfolding my sobbing figure.

"I get it, Gin, better than anyone," he gently pulled away, forcing a small smile as I tucked wet pieces of hair behind my ear. "He looked right at me and didn't even know me. I probably would've done the same thing if I were in your shoes."

"I saw what they did to him, Steve. Pierce made me watch as they wiped his mind and then he ordered Bucky to kill me."

Steve's brow furrowed, eyes sweeping my face, reflecting the concern held in my tone. "He dropped you off here?"

"After he stabbed me; he knew I'd survive." I reached for his hand, clutching it tightly. "Somewhere through all of HYDRA's bullshit, he knew Pierce's order was wrong."

"Did he recognize you?"

I shook my head. "I think he tried but there's so much conditioning to fumble through he couldn't make heads or tails of anything."

Steve gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. "We'll figure how to get him back together, whatever it takes." He promised.

-x-

I looked up when a man slid into the booth opposite me. The familiar features of James Barnes appeared beneath the rim of the black baseball cap, yet the warmth in his blue eyes appeared long gone, replaced with a torment of rediscovering himself.

"You're out of hospital?"

"Super soldier, remember? I'm a fast healer," I smiled.

"How'd you know I'd go to the bank?" He questioned glancing around the quiet diner, apparently waiting for someone to pounce – for our brief shred of trust to be shattered.

"I didn't know, but I hoped if you remembered the place where you were held, you might go there in search for answers."

"I know you, but I don't know how," he admitted quietly as my tight grasp of the coffee cup released.

"We knew each other…a different lifetime ago." I reached down for the envelope beside me, placing it in the middle of the table. "This is for you, money and documents to get you out of the country on a cargo ship leaving this evening."

He frowned at me. "Why?"

"Steve wants to bring you in," Bucky shifted nervously in his seat. "He wants his best friend back; he thinks we can help you. But I know that man is hidden beneath years of HYDRA conditioning. You deserve the chance to be free, to discover who you are without the pressure of…" I trailed off awkwardly, staring Bucky sitting across from me was almost too much to handle.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"It's not your fault. You're here, with a vague idea you know me, which is better than no idea at all." I flashed him a watery smile. "I just need you to know that I'm here for you, no matter what the reason, you can call or just show up on my doorstep, I'm here if you need me." I pushed the envelope towards him. "Please, take it and go."

He accepted the envelope, staring at it for a long moment before hesitantly setting it back on the table. "Come with me."

"What?"

"I read 'bout you online. You've been through all…this." He motioned to his head.

"That was different, I only had a few months of conditioning to break, you have decades –"

"You said you wanted to help me." He interrupted, blue eyes studying my face as he searched for a truth, he felt but couldn't place.

I assumed he needed space and time to convalesce, but now he had my thoughts churning, wondering if he needed me as much I did him. We were two broken halves wanting to be whole, fighting our way through time to find a moment of blissful peace together.

"I'll be at the dock ten minutes to midnight."

He reached for the envelope, tucking it into a jacket pocket as he slid out of the booth. He turned to leave, only to hesitate. "If you don't show, I get it, you've got family –"

"You are my family, Bucky," I smiled. "Always have been."

He managed a curt nod before walking away.

-x-

"Are you sure about this?" Michael posed the same question I'd heard all afternoon as we pulled into a park at the port and climbed out of the SUV.

"Of course, I'm sure," I replied rechecking my backpack contained everything I needed. "Maybe I don't know my final destination or how long I'll be gone, but Bucky asked me to tag along. I can't say no to him anymore than I can you."

"Still don't know how you let me off the hook for being a jerk."

"You had to follow the path you thought was right," I reached over to brush a thumb over his cheek. So much of the boy I'd raised finally came back to me now he was free of Pierce's clutches. "Letting you go was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do."

"I didn't know Pierce was HYDRA –"

"- I told you, you don't have to explain anything. I love you as much as I did the day, I first held you in my arms. That will never change, not even with our mutual pigheadedness getting in the way."

He chuckled. "What about Steve? You don't think he'd want to be on this grand plan of yours?"

"Probably, but we have different ideas on how we get Bucky back. I won't risk him being taken to a black site; I can't lose him like that after everything that's happened." I pulled a note from my pocket extending it to him. "I've written him a letter, hopefully he still has a shred of forgiveness for me."

"He'll always forgive you," Michael smirked placing the note in his back pocket.

He drew me into a tight embrace. I closed my eyes, burying my face into the warmth of his neck, where for a moment the guilt of my endless lies faded. I said a silent prayer, hoping when the truth came to light, Steve could forgive this betrayal as he had the last. We wanted the same thing, we just had different ways of getting there.

"Don't go getting yourself into trouble," I remarked as we parted.

"Ditto," he smiled knowingly handing over my duffle bag. "He's here," he nodded his head behind me.

Relief flooded me as I glanced back over my shoulder, catching Bucky lingering comfortably in the shadow of a shipping container.

"I guess he's too twitchy to meet me."

"Michael," I scowled. "That isn't funny."

"Just be careful, okay?"

I nodded, giving him another hug before letting him go. I walked over to Bucky, flashing him a small smile.

"That's your son?"

"Yeah, he wanted to meet you, but there's plenty of time for that."

"What did you tell him?"

"That I need time away, and I'd call when I could. He understands, and I think he's a little jealous," I pulled one of my fake passports from my pocket.

"Why's that?"

"His bedtime stories growing up where about the Howling Commandos, it's all he ever wanted to hear about, and to see you in the flesh, it's exciting for him." I explained affectionately.

"Doesn't he know what I've done?" Bucky murmured.

"He only knows you as Bucky Barnes." My response drew a genuine smile to his face. "Are you ready?"

"It's not too late to back out."

I turned towards the cargo ship, its bright lights a beacon I didn't want to run from. It held the promise of a fresh start, a life with the man I'd longed for, no matter the up-hill battle. I reached for Bucky's hand, gently squeezing the warm flesh through his reluctant flinch.

"Everyone deserves a second chance, Bucky, even us."

He sighed softly as we walked towards the ship.

* * *

 _REVIEWS ALWAYS WELCOMED._


	29. Wounds

**CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE – Wounds**

The movement was rapid. Bucky's tossing and turning woke me as it did most nights. Kicking off the blankets and climbing out of bed, I leaned over him when a flash of metal reflected in the softness of the window light caught me unaware. My woeful groan and thud against the floor snapped Bucky from his nightmare.

The bedside light abruptly lit up the cabin, Bucky's wild gaze falling on me cradling my bleeding nose.

"Shit!"

"I'm okay, I don't think it's broken." I tried to blink my watery gaze clear as he scrambled from the bed, bolting into the washroom to grab a towel.

"I'm sorry, Gin," he sighed awkwardly shoving the towel into my hand before crossing to the other side of the cabin like a scolded dog.

"It's okay," I carefully wiped up the blood, ignoring the brutal pain fanning across my face. "See? The blood has already stopped. No nose job required."

"I could've taken your head off." He spoke between harsh intakes of breath, torn amid various stages of horror and anger.

"But you didn't –"

"I could've killed you!"

"But you didn't." I stood up, dropping the towel on the messed-up bed. "Your brain is trying to unscramble itself. There's no easy fix, just time."

"I'm not safe to be around," he mumbled at the floor, eager to be lost in the fragments of his mind where he found some sort of relief.

I couldn't begin to imagine how deep HYDRA's conditioning embedded itself within Bucky, and every conversation risked the chance of flicking a switch neither of us knew about. Despite the uncertainty, I moved towards him, reaching out to curl my arms around his waist. I wasn't about to run away; a pack of wild horses couldn't drag me from him now.

I embraced his burly form, burying my face in the curve of his neck. Every muscle tightened as the weight of his actions spread an undeserved agony through him. I held on, trying to prove I wasn't afraid of him.

"What if I hurt you?"

"I can take a beating, but you'd never go so far as to kill me," I reassured him, feeling his raging heartbeat begin to calm the longer we stood together. "You've tried in the past and couldn't do it. If anything, you should be worried about me, I've shot you twice."

He exhaled a shaky breath, wrapping his arms around me. His comfort level around me increased the longer we were in each other's company, at least when a nightmare didn't scare him back into his shell.

"You really shot me?"

"Technically it was in self-defense, you were trying to strangle me." Leaning back the small smile temping his lips lifted my spirits. "It was the last time I'd ever see you until a few weeks ago."

"When I stabbed you?" He frowned.

"Missing vital organs and you drove me to the hospital," I pointed out with a smile. "You knew somewhere in your mind that I wasn't a threat…I think you knew me somehow, deep down where HYDRA couldn't quite twist the last stubborn thread."

A hand rested comfortably at the small of my back, keeping the warmth of my body pressed against his. Tormented eyes scanned my face, searching for the lie he'd never uncover, because he identified the truth whether he wanted to believe it or not. Somehow, he knew me from the past, he just hadn't recovered the missing pieces to realize the whole picture.

"How about some fresh air?"

"Yeah," he agreed as I pulled away, grabbing a jacket and following him from the cabin, through the winding maze to one of the viewing decks.

Waves of salty air slapped our faces, drawing a small smile to my lips as I leaned into the refreshing coolness.

"I'm sorry," Bucky murmured another apology to the night.

"You don't have to apologize all the time, especially to me."

"You're too forgiving."

"Not really," I admitted.

An outbreak of goosebumps across my body didn't occur because of the cold. I sheepishly glanced at Bucky, hands grasping the railing as waves smashed against the ship below us.

"It's hard to blame someone who isn't really in control of their mental faculties." I playfully elbowed his side, drawing his gaze. "If anyone needs to learn to forgive, it's you."

"Don't know what you mean," he shrugged.

"I get it, believe me I know how crippling the blame and guilt can be, but eventually you'll realize, so much of what you did was because of someone else." I carefully placed a hand on his metal forearm, the bitter cold of machinery smooth beneath my touch. "HYDRA turned you into a weapon. They stole your will, mind and body, corrupting everything good that made you James Buchanan Barnes."

He sighed, contemplating my passionate plea for him to see reason. "I doubt I was a saint before," he glanced sideways at me as I smiled.

"Your charm was borderline scandalous, and you were incredibly stubborn."

"Compared to what? You?" The mischievous smile lit up his entire face for the first time in days.

"Okay, I'm more pigheaded out of the two of us, but you had this way of making me come around. Even when I didn't know who I was, somehow you made me feel that everything would be fine, that together we could take on the world and win." I smiled fondly.

"Didn't exactly work out that way for us."

"No, there was no fairytale ending, but there was something you did say to me, when it felt like all hope was lost,"

He frowned. "What?"

"You said no war; no super soldier serum would change how you felt about me. Whatever came our way, we'd figure it out together. And ever since, we've kept finding our way back to each other, doesn't that count for something?"

He didn't answer, staring out over the ocean. "Do you know anything about my family?"

"Only what you told me."

He looked at me, silent in his need for answers. "What do you know?"

"Well, you said you were born in Indiana and moved to Brooklyn when you were a kid. I think your father was a soldier and your mother died when you were young, and Steve was the closest thing you had to a brother."

"Did we make plans for a family?"

My fingers slipped awkwardly from his arm as the bitter flower of shame bloomed across my cheeks. "I think you mentioned it once."

"You didn't want kids?"

I struggled to string a sentence together, worried if I spoke too much of the past this early, I'd risk hurting his recovery. The tangled web of HYDRA influence through both our lives had to be cut at some point, and it didn't seem right to pull Bucky's fragile mental state into my cluttered memories of depression.

"Gin," he exhaled my name in a long breath, like he'd done so many times before in the past. A strong tone to urge me on despite my misgivings. "Tell me."

Hastily, I wiped away the couple of stray tears unwittingly rolling down my face. "Nothing would've made me happier to be your wife and raise a family together, but HYDRA saw fit to steal any chance of a future. They couldn't have me compromised so they made it impossible for me to have children."

Bucky reached for the railing, effortlessly crushing the metal beneath his angered grasp. "They destroy everything they touch," he muttered darkly.

"I didn't have the heart to tell you back then, not after everything we'd already been through." I hugged myself turning towards the main door, keen to make my escape from an uncomfortable memory. "I'm going back to bed."

He merely nodded; gaze fixed on the ocean waves moving in the night. "For what it's worth, Gin, I don't think it would've mattered, we still had each other."

My teeth sunk into my bottom lip as I fought every instinct to throw myself at the man who'd just revealed a glimpse of my soulmate. My Bucky emerged when I needed him the most, a few words carefully put together brought a comfort that would ease me to sleep as I headed back to our cabin.

* * *

 _REVIEWS ALWAYS WELCOMED._


	30. If There Is Light, It Will Find You

**CHAPTER THIRTY – If There Is Light, It Will Find You**

"Welcome to Antwerp," I glanced back at Bucky as we disembarked the cargo ship.

He pulled a black baseball cap further down his brow after a quick glance of his surroundings, determined to keep a low profile despite the early morning hive of activity at the port.

"I hope you don't mind, but I made arrangements for us." I pulled my cellphone from my jacket pocket, flicking through the messages until I found what I wanted.

"What kind of arrangements?"

I showed him the cellphone screen. "Look for this BMW."

We took separate lanes in the parking lot of the port, studying each number plate until a curt whistle stole my attention.

"You arranged this?"

I smiled when I discovered the keys on the back tires of the black SUV. "Always so surprised." I hopped into the drivers' seat, dropping my duffle in the backseat. "I figured we needed a place to lie low and lucky for you, I have a house in the South of France and people who owe me favors."

"We're going to your place?"

I cast him a sideways glance, pulling out of the parking lot. "It was an eighteen-century shed when I brought it in the early fifties, abandoned and just four walls of mold and brick, but it's in the same town where my parents were from so, I guess it was a sympathy buy."

"Your parents are French?"

I nodded, "They moved to New Zealand after the first World War."

"How'd you end up stateside?"

"That, Bucky is a long story."

"It's a long drive."

We looked at each other, smiles lighting up our faces.

-x-

Passing through the electric gate, the morning light highlighted the villa in all its perfect country charm as I drove up the long gravel drive.

"I thought you said it was a shed?" Bucky leaned forward staring at the villa.

"It was. This is sixty years later and a lot of additions and decorating."

We passed the landscaped garden surrounding a pool and parked up beneath the car port.

"It's nice."

I smiled proudly at my most beloved home, the one place holding memories I treasured above all as me and Michael spent many summer vacations here. Even Peggy and her family vacationed with us over the years, leading to the guest house being built pool side.

Taking the lead, we entered through the large farm door, stepping into the spacious entranceway. Airy and bright, gradually filling with morning sunlight, I walked into the dining area, sharply turning right to take the stairs.

"You can have this room," I entered the light grey bedroom, strategically chosen for its location was next door to mine. "It has its own bathroom, and a nice view of the garden."

He stepped up to the window, silent in his observations, as he had been most of the trip. He appeared content to listen to me rattle on or else too polite to tell me to shut up.

"You can wander around the place if you want, use the pool."

He nodded.

"Okay, I'll let you settle in." I moved towards the door, pausing. "If I'm bothering you, you'll let me know, right?" I questioned him in my native French, surprised when he turned to face me with a small smile.

"You're not bothering me," he replied in French. "I like listening to your stories." He added in English.

I smiled, "Okay. Well, while you settle in, I'll head down to the market and get some fresh food, they used to have this wonderful baker who made croissants to die for."

"I'll take your word for it."

"I'll be back in ten," I promised, heading back downstairs to grab my purse on the way out.

Returning from the market, I could hear the shower on upstairs and decided to put breakfast together. Fresh croissants from the baker, butter and assortment of fruit and cheeses, it was a gourmet breakfast, fit for two weary soldiers. Moving at ease around the kitchen, I prepared coffee and then headed to Michael's chosen bedroom off the entranceway, raiding his closet.

Walking upstairs I found the door to Bucky's room slightly ajar, I entered with an armload of Michael's clothing, figuring he and Bucky were about the same size and set the selection on the neatly made bed.

"Hey," Bucky pushed open the bathroom door, securing a towel around his waist.

"Oh, hi…I just brought you some clothes to try."

I couldn't stop my wandering gaze, stalking water drops rolling over the defined muscles suited to a warrior, up to the rough seam where his metal arm attached to his collarbone – metal brutally applied to flesh.

"Breakfast is downstairs ready when you are." I blushed, averting my gaze and hastily turning for the door.

"The answer's yes," Bucky remarked stealing my innocent train of thought to make it his own. "Sometimes it hurts, metal and flesh aren't a natural fit. I don't usually get the chance to think about it."

I swallowed hard before gradually facing him. "Do you know how it happened?"

"I've had…flashes, I guess of it, doctors, blood and pain," he shrugged walking over to the bed, glancing over the clothes. "It ain't any different to anything else I've been seeing lately."

"It could've happened when you fell from the train in 1945, you obviously survived it because of whatever Zola did to you." I offered up the most reasonable explanation, moving towards the bed.

"Zola?" he murmured looking up. "That sounds familiar."

"He was a HYDRA scientist. He's the one who injected me with his serum creation." I sighed feeling like a fool for only seeing it now. "It was rumored he was experimenting on the allied soldiers held captive. He could've been injecting various serums until he found a victim it worked on."

"Like you."

"And you." My pulse quickened as his intense stare trained on me. His metal fingers tensing into a fist before releasing steadily.

"I'm starting to see things when I'm awake. Like a door unlocking in my mind…torture, training…I don't know what's real, what's not, but there's this one thing I see clearer than anything."

"Okay," I murmured unsurely. "Maybe if I know more –"

"I gotta show you."

"Show me?" I frowned as he abruptly moved around the bed, not giving me the chance to think or brace myself before his hands cupped my face, tilting my head back slightly as his lips pressed to mine.

Tender, yet unsure, his soft kiss reminded me of the short time I'd called him mine. Jolts of lust awoke deep inside shimmering to the surface just as he broke away, leaving a breathy moan in my throat.

"It was real," he murmured.

"You were thinking about me?" I bit my bottom lip, still pump and moist from his touch I craved. Another few seconds and all reason would've happily fled into the madness of desire.

"Hard not too, you're the only thing I know is real." His tone hummed huskily, hands shifting back into my loose waves, as if the touch gave credence to his thoughts. "I see glimpses of the past…our past and gotta figure it happened."

My hands rose to his chest, his sentimental words sending an old familiar shiver coursing through me. He was all I wanted; all I could think about.

Goosebumps trailed a path across his damp, warm flesh as my fingers reached his collarbone, rolling over the bumpy, scared flesh where Bucky ended, and the Winter Soldier began. He bowed his head, burying his nose into my hair to inhale deeply.

"I should get dressed," his lips fluttered amongst my hair, his hot breath tickling my neck as I looked up at him.

"Is that what you really want?"

Bucky's hands lowered to my arms, obviously struggling with the question and what my tone implied. He awkwardly stepped back, arms dropping heavy to his side. He cleared his throat staring sheepishly at the floor. "I'll meet you downstairs."

I'd acted shamelessly and now paid the price for pushing him too far. Ignoring the burn spreading across my face, I departed the room, heading back downstairs.

* * *

 _REVIEWS ALWAYS WELCOMED._


	31. Surrender

**CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE – Surrender**

Fingers wrestled lazily to untangle a braid as I descended the stairs. Fighting a sleepy yawn, I stepped off the staircase encountering Bucky standing stiffly posed in the dining room. Spread across the vast wall, various sizes of frames contained a precious memory.

He exhaled a long sigh as I walked over. I'd imagine he'd studied every photo, wondered about the moment captured in time and perhaps fought down an angered jealousy at not being able to have such a taste of happiness.

Glancing at him, his gaze remained fixed on the wall, a storm of emotion rolling across his handsome features. Following his line of sight, the central photo unexpectedly seemed like a beacon. One of the few photos I possessed of the two of us held his attention – the man he was didn't reflect the sight he now saw in the glass.

"Do you want to know about it?"

"It's from the war," he replied quietly.

"It was taken a couple of days before you and Steve left on a mission to capture Zola. Your last mission."

"Wish I could remember that, we look happy." His tone carried no sense of emotion.

"We were happy, we'd planned on marrying when you returned." I reached for his arm. "You will remember in time."

Bucky stepped away, the skin between his eyes pinching harshly together. "You don't know that. Nothing could come back."

"Then we make new memories," I shrugged off the detachment rapidly growing between us since our intimate kiss. "You're free to live your life as you want."

"Even if it's not with you?" His question, a punch to the gut had the desired effect he searched for in his evident quest to push me away. He stole some of my rebuilt hope, exchanging it with a horrible dose of reality I'd eagerly evaded the past few weeks.

I folded my arms across my chest, trying to portray a mask of indifference. "If that's what you want, I'll support you."

"For a spy, you ain't much of a liar." Nothing but contempt and disdain laced his tone. "You want _that_ guy back," He pointed obviously to the photo. "You don't want _me_ , broken and messed up –"

"I'm not having this argument with you." I stalked into the kitchen, flicking on the coffee machine in a vain attempt to ignore the furious tremor in my hands.

Nothing would've given me more pleasure than to slap the insolence from him, but now, after all these years I finally understood what he'd gone through with me – the pain of having to watch me tear myself apart in order to discover truth.

"Just admit it! You've been pushing for weeks for me to remember you –"

" – you asked me to come with you! You kissed me!" I gave into the despair twisting and turning inside of me as I faced him. "I know what you're doing, and I get it! I get what you're going through better than anyone, but I'm never going to apologize for being in love with you!"

"You could've found someone else," he replied callously, baiting me into a losing argument.

"Don't you think I tried?" I scowled. "When Steve told me, you'd fallen from the HYDRA train it wasn't just my heart that broke, a part of me died with you, Bucky! I never got it back, and what formed in that dark void was the coldhearted spy, S.H.I.E.L.D needed me to be. I didn't feel anything for a long time…not until the day I found out you were still alive."

Jaw obviously clenching, Bucky reached behind him, my stomach dropping as he set a gun down on the marble top. "Found four others around the place, all loaded."

"Don't flatter yourself," I didn't bother to hide the scorn in my tone as I moved towards him. "They've been around the place for years. I even turned the cellar into a fortified bunker, there's enough resources down there to supply a small army."

His metal fingers tapped against the marble, inches away from the loaded weapon. He stared at me for a long moment before turning away, making me feel like a fool. He'd decided to throw up barriers, block me out before we lost ourselves further in a complicated mess. He'd made the decision I never could.

"Maybe you're right," I eventually sighed. "Maybe it would be better if you didn't want me, then I wouldn't have this constant ache in my heart…we'd both be free to move on with our lives."

His heavy footsteps stomped from the room, the French doors slamming behind him seconds later being the only reply he needed to give.

-x-

"How's things?"

"Complicated," I sighed staring at the iPad screen displaying Michael's tired features. "Bucky and I aren't really talking at the moment. We got into a fight."

"Did he hurt you?"

"No, nothing like that. I think he's frustrated about everything being so mixed up in his head. He's trying so hard to force a memory and I think he's doing it for me. I'm hindering his recovery."

"There's no easy fix, mom, you know that better than anyone, maybe you gotta give him some space." Michael took a sip from his cup, hastily setting it aside when my vision blurred. "Hey, c'mon, mom, don't get upset, you knew it wasn't gonna be easy. He's got what? Fifty something years of HYDRA shit to work through, but you gotta believe he'll remember you in time, just like you did him."

"It's different, Michael, I think I've lost him for good this time."

The torment of going on with my life without Bucky suddenly seemed a bitter reality. Miserable and alone I faced the sad truth that Bucky's decision to be on his own was the only way to protect him.

"I wish I had the answers, mom. I know you've done everything you can for him, but maybe it's time to just leave it up to fate." He hopelessly shrugged.

"Maybe," I agreed quietly, proud of my son for putting up with my emotional roller-coaster. "Is Steve angry with me?"

"No more than usual," Michael's features lit up as he smiled. "He'd be happy to have you back, and so would I. I know Tony's been trying to get ahold you, he's building a new Avengers facility and wants you to run the place."

Fighting an eye roll I merely nodded. "Yeah, his voice messages have implied that, in the last one he was practically begging so I guess he's desperate. Are you staying at the Tower?"

"Yeah, I'm working security here until the new place opens up, and then I'm hoping my amazing mom will pull some strings to get me working with the Avengers."

"We'll figure it out when I get back."

He straightened up. "So, you're coming home then?"

"Yeah, I think I am. I love you, Michael."

"Love you too, mom, see you soon."

We hung up.

The sun through the window caught the diamond on my finger where Bucky's ring had sat faithfully for some time now. Gently I shimmied it off and hid it in my jean pocket as I rose from the couch.

Heading into the dining room, I took a frame off the wall extracting the photo of me and Bucky, and another of the Howling Commandos. I placed them with crisp pages of a new notebook uncovered in a drawer and marched boldly to the guest house where Bucky had spent the better part of his seven-day self-imposed exile.

Lost in the pages of a worn novel, his head jerked up as I entered.

"A truce offering." I set the notebook on the table before him. "My doctors recommended journaling after my conditioning was broken. It was helpful in some ways; I could get out of my head for a bit and have a record of things I wanted to investigate or remember. I think it might be helpful for you too."

He gently set his book aside to take up the notebook, discovering the photos.

"I put those in there as reminders you had something good in your life. It wasn't all HYDRA, torture and pain."

"Sorry I snapped at you," he sighed staring at the photos.

"I'm sorry I pushed you that far." He looked up with an obvious frown. "It kills me to admit it, but you were right, you can't be the Bucky I knew, it isn't fair on either of us to expect you'll remember everything, and we'll pick up where we left off. I need to accept that and move on." I forced a smile knowing it wouldn't reflect any warmth. "People have been calling from home, wanting me back and you need to be on your own, so I'll be leaving."

"You don't have too –"

" – yes, I do." I cut him off abruptly, fearing my sorrow would bubble over before I got out everything I needed to say. "You deserve the chance to live your life as you want, discover who you are and who you want to be. You can stay here as long as you want, no one will bother you."

"Gin," he rose from the chair, moving to close the space between us but my hands flew up, the severe ache in my chest already a burden.

"You should be happy and healthy for yourself, not to please anyone. If you ever need help, I'll be there." I exhaled a long breath placing a spare house key on the table.

"Thank you," he murmured.

Walking out of the guest house, I pulled out my cellphone placing a long-awaited call.

" _You've been ignoring me, old girl."_

A genuine smile tempted my lips to hear Tony's voice. "I know, kid, I'll make it up to you if you can get me a flight home."

 _"Deal. You're gonna love the plans I've got for the new place, I've got your office sorted, which is amazing because I'm paying for everything –"_

"I'm sure it's amazing and I can't wait to see it, but I need to pack."

" _Okay, okay, turn on your tracker and I'll send a Quinjet."_

"Done, see you when I get back." I hung up and activated the GPS, glancing back at the guest house before heading into the house.

-x-

Approaching the local airfield as night fell, a Quinjet already stood by, it's back end open revealing Steve. Staunchly posed in civilian clothing his demeanor was all business.

"Where is he?"

"Hello to you too." I walked pass him dumping my duffle on the bench seat. "I should've known when I called for a ride, you'd probably tag along to give me the telling off I deserve."

"Where's Bucky?"

"He's gone." I lied sitting beside my duffle, strapping myself in for the journey home. "He's off on his own to figure things out."

"And you just let him go?"

I looked up at him. "I had too, why shouldn't he choose how he lives his life?"

Taken aback by my harsh tone, Steve reluctantly signaled to the pilot, sitting on the opposite side of the Quinjet. We didn't speak for a long time, refusing to make eye contact. My attention swayed to the cockpit and the clear night sky spread out before us, only to glance sheepishly at Steve when I couldn't take the silent treatment any longer. Stiffly posed and his gaze fixed to the floor, his shoulders hunch forward presenting a depression I'd caused.

"I left a note at the bank, arranging a meet, not knowing if he'd even go there or show up," I admitted drawing his gaze. "He turned up and I gave him a new passport and papers on a ship leaving the country. He asked me to come with him."

"An offer you couldn't refuse," he mumbled, nodding in understanding.

"He has fragments of memories, flashes of a moment in time, but nothing that makes complete sense to him. He'd give anything to remember who he is, but you can't force your brain to do something that might never happen."

"You don't think his memories will come back?"

"Some might not. We don't know how often he was wiped, or whatever other torture they subjected him too but maybe some memories he won't want back."

"Peggy said the same thing about you," he sighed. "She worried you'd never be the same again and blamed herself for putting you in that situation."

"I never blamed her, I volunteered."

"Did he remember you?"

I glanced at my bare hands, awkwardly rubbing where my engagement ring should've been instead of hidden in my faithful tin box. "Not really."

"Did something happen between you two?"

"We decided it was best we went our separate ways."

"I'm sorry, Gin."

I merely nodded my head. "It's better this way, it's closure." I stared across the Quinjet at him. "For all of us. He's away from HYDRA and he'll be okay on his own, I know that for sure."

"Doesn't make it any easier."

"We still have each other, Steve." I extended my hand to him, holding it out in the open space for what felt like forever until he finally grasped it tightly, flashing me a warm smile.

* * *

 _REVIEWS ALWAYS WELCOMED._


	32. Wolves At The Door

**WORLDS APART: Part 5**

 **CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO – Wolves At The Door**

"We just received conformation, Director, there has been an explosion in Lagos."

My gaze shifted from the thin screen of several windows displaying various mission reports, audio files and news cycles to catch the somber features of my assistant, Grace. Pretty and petite, the raven-haired San Francisco native was only a recruit at the Academy when S.H.I.E.L.D fell. She'd turned up at the Avengers Facility like many other agents, lost and searching for a shred of S.H.I.E.L.D's past to cling to, and I'd done my best to accommodate those I could.

"Do we have confirmed losses?" I sighed sinking back in my chair.

"I'm still waiting for numbers to come in, but it's expected there'll be more than a dozen civilian casualties." She tapped her tablet and a new window opened on my screen. "I've got the playbacks of the mission. I would've thought you'd be listening to the live feed."

"No, Steve finds my commentary distracting." I smiled. "When Secretary Ross calls and lets you get a word in, tell him I'll call him tomorrow after I've debriefed the team."

"It looks really bad."

"Don't be an alarmist, Grace, we've been through worse."

"But people aren't so forgiving anymore. After Sokovia, the public are questioning if we need the Avengers."

The young woman revealed herself at the worst possible time. Her lack of advancement in my office turned her against everything I stood for. As good as she was at her job, turbulent time hovered over the Avengers Facility. Everything we did was under constant scrutiny by various committees who rarely understood what the Avengers faced in the field and part of my job involved protecting them from bureaucrats.

"I dread to think of a day when Captain America is forced to hang up his shield by the same people who once hailed him as a hero."

"Maybe a shield isn't the answer anymore. Maybe there's a better way to handle situations so civilians don't end up as the top story on news cycles."

I decided not to engage in Grace's passionate need to project her feelings, forcing a small smile. "Let me know when the team arrive home."

She nodded, reluctantly leaving the office as I focused on the mission playback.

-x-

Steve's room erupted with light, his tired eyes finding me perched on the edge of his neatly made bad where I'd waited for only a few minutes. Still dressed in his filthy uniform, he set his shield down as I went to him, our arms enfolding each other.

"I'm okay," he sighed without releasing the emotional weight burdening his shoulders. "We're okay."

"I've been listening to the mission playback all afternoon." I murmured into his neck distracted by the smells of smoke and sweat from a hard-fought battle.

"It's my fault."

I leaned back as his hands moved to my waist, shaking my head at his beaten tone. "Don't even go down that rabbit hole. I heard what Rumlow said, his death was always the endgame, no matter who or what got in the way."

"He mentioned Bucky and I…I froze." His sad eyes locked on mine. "Was it true? Did he know me?"

"He mentioned knowing someone, I didn't know who he referred too. But Rumlow was an exception agent who hid his true loyalty for years. He probably knew our weaknesses better than we know ourselves."

Steve pulled away, walking over to drop on the bed. He rubbed the back of his neck. "If I'd stopped him all those people wouldn't have got hurt, and Wanda…" he trailed off shaking his head, defeated as I'd never seen before. "She's just a kid, Gin."

"How is she holding up?"

"She hasn't said anything since we left." He looked up at me. "How bad is it?"

"I've got a meeting with Secretary Ross first thing tomorrow morning." I walked over to sit beside him, catching a glimpse of Peggy's features in a small photo frame on his bedside table.

"I'm sorry, Gin."

"Don't be," I replied softly, fingers toying with my locket. "I've still got a few tricks left up my sleeve."

"This is on me –"

"And now it's on me, I'm responsible for the team and I'll take care of whatever Secretary Ross wants to sling my way." I gently nudged his side drawing his gaze again. "I've been dealing with men like him all my life, I've got this."

Though seemingly unconvinced, I planted a sweet kiss on his cheek.

"Don't wallow all night, okay?"

"No promises," he managed a feeble smile.

As I left my old friend to his thoughts, I recognized only one path laid before me now, the only one to save the team I considered family.

-x-

"Knock knock."

Lost in melancholy thoughts to rival Steve's, long auburn hair fell away from tired eyes to reveal Wanda Maximoff's young features. "Director Renard?"

"How many times do I have to ask you to call me Gin?" I entered the room she'd made her own, cluttering the surfaces with trinkets, candles and soft furnishings.

Though the youngest member of the Avengers, the Sokovia native worked hard to prove herself a worthy member, spending long hours with Steve as they developed a partnership with his strength and her powers. Every time I saw her suit up with the others, I couldn't fight the pride at the woman she'd become despite the losses she'd faced. Now I feared this incident would set her confidence back.

"Every time I guess." She frowned at the tray I carried with two sundaes. "Everyone's already told me not to blame myself."

"I'm sure they have, but I thought you might want some old fashion cheering up," I carefully set the tray on the bed beside her. "They always cheered up Michael when he was feeling blue, still do actually, but I doubt he'd admit to it."

She couldn't hide the smile tempting her lips as she reached for the strawberry sundae. "Thanks." She twirled the spoon within the ice-cream as I grabbed the other sundae and set the tray on the floor. "You're always so kind to me. I hurt people today –"

" – you also saved people. Imagine the fallout if that explosion had happened on the ground. We wouldn't be having this conversation and I'd have to bury my best friend." I gently nudged her side with an elbow. "We can teach you a number of things here but dealing with loss is something we all struggle with, even when you've been at this as long as I have, it's never easy."

"Am I off the team?"

"No, you've more than earnt your place. Leave the politics to me."

She ate a couple of spoonful's, the wheels of her mind obviously turning over.

"What is it, Wanda?"

"I've heard agents talk of your past, they say you belonged to HYDRA, that they turned you into a super soldier."

I cautiously nodded, understanding rumors of my past usually ran wild wherever I was. "Mostly that's true. I worked for them willingly because they'd brainwashed me to do so. After being rescued by Steve, I spent the next seventy years trying to atone for my actions."

"Did you?"

I looked at her discovering her gaze focused on the sundae, waiting for the magic words to heal her agony. I would've given anything to protect her from the reality of our work, she's suffered so much already and deserved a reprieve.

"Maybe," I shrugged having never discovered the answer for myself. "I saved people, I hurt people and lost just as many. I believe in the small wins, and I think in your case, you did the only thing you possibly could do. But it's not up to me to make you believe that, only you can make peace with what's happened today."

"What if I don't?"

"Then I'm afraid you're just like the rest of us." I sighed digging into my sundae.

-x-

"What's going on?" Steve frowned entering my office, discovering a couple of packed boxes on my desk as I shredded various classified documents.

"I've handed in my resignation to Secretary Ross and he's accepted it." I explained quickly, hoping the rush of words would be like ripping off a Band-Aid, quick and somewhat painless.

"What?"

I glanced at him, handsome features showing various shades of anger and confusion as if he couldn't decide which emotion suited the explanation.

"I'm Director of Operations. I wanted Rumlow brought to justice, and I gave the go ahead for the Lagos mission, so I'm responsible for the deaths of the Wakanda people."

"You know that's not true," he sighed angrily standing before my desk, willing to make a passionate plea on my behalf. "I led the team, I –"

"Steve," I abandoned my work, reaching for the navy blazer hanging off my chair, pulling it on over a crisp white shirt. "If I didn't resign and issue a public apology to the people of Wakanda, the government was going to take Wanda into custody."

His eyes widened, the obscene action to tear our team apart shocking me into action. Despite already knowing I would make the hard call, to hear the Secretary's intentions made brutally clear and without remorse, still sent a tremor of fear rolling down my spine. I'd only succeeded in buying us all a little more time.

"I don't know what would happen if they got their hands on her, and I couldn't let her disappear to some black site god knows where, not after everything she's been through. The safest place for her is here, with you and the team where she can work on controlling her abilities."

"Maybe Tony can swing something?"

"He has his own things going on. This isn't his fight."

"This isn't right."

"No, but the deal's been made, and I'm not sorry. I promised Fury when I took this position that I would do everything in my power to protect this team, to wrong the mistakes he felt he'd made."

I faced the window looking over the grounds, recruits trained in various activities, unaware their futures hung in the balance as the government closed in. The fenced boundary wouldn't hold back the righteous, cruel world much longer.

"There's a public outcry for the Avengers to be shut down and Ross is pushing for government intervention."

"Do you really think it'll get that far?"

"It's already here. My own assistant thinks we're obsolete fossils." I glanced at Steve as he came up beside me, his brow heavily furrowed as he struggled with my decision. "We created a diplomatic mess a year after the last one. Saving some people for a greater good isn't a good enough excuse anymore."

"So what? We just let the government put us on the shelf?"

"I don't know," I shrugged helplessly. "I don't recognize this place anymore. Everything I fought for, everything I sacrificed went down with the Triskelion, and I feel like I've been running on borrowed time ever since."

Steve's anger faded with a long sigh, understanding my meaning well enough as he'd felt the change too. Our world was long gone and both of us were tussling to make a life with the shattered pieces we possessed.

"Michael's engaged and planning a family, and I don't know how much longer Peg will be around…maybe leaving now isn't a bad thing. Why do we have to keep saving a world that doesn't appreciate it, let alone want it? When do we get to live our lives?"

"I can't just give up, Gin," he replied, clinging to the final stubborn being of hope.

"I know, I hate and love that about you. But I hope one day you'll put yourself first, you deserve to be happy."

He pulled me into a tight hug. "Where will you go?"

"Florida? Isn't that where old folks go when they retire?"

He laughed as we parted. "You might stick out a bit."

"Well, I thought I might spend a couple of weeks with Peg and then see where the wind blows me."

"It won't be the same without you."

"I'll only ever be a phone call away." I playfully pushed him away. "Go tell the team the dragon lady is leaving the building."

"Nat will want to throw you a party."

"I'm counting on it." I smiled. "Gods knows we could do with the distraction."

* * *

 _REVIEWS ALWAYS WELCOMED._


	33. Let It Enfold You

**CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE – Let It Enfold You**

Two weeks spent in Peggy's company didn't bring the comfort it once did. My dearest friend was lost within her illness – it stole her entirely, leaving me with nothing but memories to draw upon. The only silver lining came with her smile, listening to my stories as if it were the first time. Her features lit up, marveling at the stories of the Howling Commandos, just as Michael had when he was a boy.

Returning home, a bundle of mail sat on the doorstep, redirected from the Avengers Facility, nothing seemed overly important until I came across a postcard.

"Bucharest, Romania," I murmured flipping it over to discover a phone number in an untidy black scrawl. "Shit…Bucky."

Rapid steps led me inside. Dumping the mail on the couch, I placed the call on my cell phone. A breath caught in my throat when the line picked up.

" _You got my postcard."_

Relief washed over me to hear Bucky's voice for the first time in two years. "Bucky?"

" _Yeah, it's me."_

"It's so good to hear your voice."

" _Yeah, same here,"_ his tone danced, and I could picture the smile lighting up his face. The memory of his smile heightened the forever present ache in my chest.

"Are you okay?"

" _I'm doing better, taking it a day at a time."_

"That's good to hear."

" _You can ask,"_ he chuckled knowingly after a minute's silence. _"I know you're dying to."_

"Have any memories come back?" I whispered.

" _I, ah, I remember the day we met,"_ he replied, my knees trembling slightly as I sank onto the couch. _"It was raining when a medic truck arrived with new nurses. I ran over with the rest of the guys and offered my jacket to you when you jumped down. I remember your face just lighting up with this big smile, like you'd come to the place of your dreams rather than a battlefield."_

My fingers swept over a cheek, brushing away the tears falling as I recalled the fateful day.

" _I remember how it felt to hold you in my arms, how it felt to watch those HYDRA soldiers drag you away from me. I even remember the hurt in your eyes when you found out I was alive…and you ain't gave up on me since."_

"Just like you never gave up on me," I replied quietly.

" _You still stateside?"_

"Yes, I'm in Washington at the moment."

" _Can you come over?"_

"To Romania?"

" _I figure I owe you dinner at least for helping me out."_

I smiled, thanking every God I could think of. "Dinner sounds nice."

-x-

Grabbing a cab from the airport terminal, the scenic drive into the city brought a wave of apprehension. I didn't know the situation I was walking into. I put faith in Bucky being as close to himself as he could be, rather than the shell of a man I'd left behind in France. For once I'd considered telling Steve, only the fragile situation with the Avengers and my resignation gave me pause to reconsider. The team needed him. And if things worked out for Bucky, I'd arrange a meeting for the old friends. He couldn't hold a grudge if I did that.

Pulling up in front of an apartment block, I paid the driver, exiting the cab. I assumed Bucky hid in plain sight due to the confined surroundings and mass population. Both provided excellent cover from those still hunting the Winter Soldier.

Determined, I headed inside with my suitcase, recalling the address he'd sent the day before. A concrete block of stairs led up pass various floors, the odd murmur of conversations erupted from behind closed doors until I reached the one I wanted.

Exhaling a shaky breath, my knuckles rapped against the door. I awkwardly tugged the hem of my blazer into place and ran a hand back through my loose waves. I knocked again and cast a glance around, finding myself alone.

Trying the door, no lock prevented me from entering. A surprisingly fresh smell greeted me as I carefully closed the door behind me.

A kitchenette and bathroom hidden behind a wooden door made up the dingy apartment. Barely anything but what Bucky absolutely needed occupied the space. Newspaper concealed the windows and a thin sleeping bag covered the mattress on the floor. A painful squeeze in my chest consumed me to see him living in such a state – the reality of living on the run.

The emaciated carpet covering sunk beneath my ballet flats as I left my suitcase and headed towards the refrigerator, discovering a notebook. Certain pages held colored tags, others newspaper clippings. My fingertips brushed over Bucky's untidy scrawl, not really reading the words but recalling the happiness in his voice when we spoke. I'd offered wondered what it would be like if his memories came back. Would everything be as it were in the forties, or would we both remain frozen with the ravages of time separating us? Preventing the life, I longed so desperately to have with him.

"You're here."

I jumped coming face to face with Bucky. He appeared as he had two years ago, wearing old jeans and a maroon shirt beneath a hooded jacket. He held a paper bag of groceries.

"Sorry, my flight was early. I did knock, and the door was unlocked so I figured you wouldn't mind if I waited in here. Well, I hope you don't mind…" my fumbling explanation drew a small smile to his face. "You look good…I mean well, you look well…healthy."

"You're still not good at that, are you?"

I blushed. "What?"

"Pretending you ain't interested in me."

Though my cheeks burned, he walked over, passing me to set the groceries on the counter.

"Does anyone know you're here?"

"No, I'm…well, unemployed at the moment."

"Yeah, I heard about that," he glanced back over his shoulder at me. "Sorry, I know you guys do some good."

"Most people don't share that sentiment. We seem to lose more people than we save, despite our best efforts."

He pulled off his cap, dropping it on the counter. Facing me, he ran a hand back through his hair, leaning casually against the counter, yet the actions seemed slightly rigid, as if his brain forced his limbs to work to appear relaxed around me.

"Are you really okay?"

"Livin' the dream." His compelled smile drew me towards him, closing the space between us so I could reach for his human hand, not letting go even when he shifted anxiously on his feet.

"Why did you ask me here? After how we left things in France, I thought you'd never want to see me again."

"I saw your face in the newspapers and it got me thinking, things I'm just remembering…places, faces," his thumb brushed over my knuckles. "Not just stuff in France or on the boat, but other stuff…" his gaze shifted over my face as he trailed off. "We never seem to catch a break, do we?"

"We're here now, doesn't that count for something?"

"It'll never be like it was, Gin."

I raised my free hand to his face; despite his flinch my thumb grazed his stubbly cheek, soothing the frown furrowing his forehead. "It doesn't have to be, if you have feelings for me, we can build something from that."

His gloved hand reached for my hand and lowered it from his face. Even through the thick leather I could feel the stiffness of the bionic metal underneath. "They'll hunt us," he protested quietly. "We'll never be free."

"Maybe, but it doesn't scare me to take on whoever wants a fight. What scares me is losing you for good, knowing I'd have to endure this life without you…I don't know how to live without you, even if it's just a memory, you've always been a part of me. I don't know how to let go of that."

His forehead came down to rest gently against mine, the intimate closeness was his first natural movement, as if my mere presence drew him out of his shell. "That's gotta be the most romantic thing anyone's ever said to me."

"Don't tease me," I smiled. "I'm trying to be serious."

"Me too, but you got me swoonin'."

I playfully pushed him away only for a strong arm to curl around my waist, the other hand tangling in my hair as our lips met. Pressed flush to his body, I succumbed to his touch without thought of fighting it.

A tiny moan escaped my throat when he pulled away.

"We can't," he puffed. "Not here, it ain't right."

"I booked a self-serviced apartment. Third floor corner apartment, one main entrance, quiet and private." My lips fluttered against his, hands clutching his shirt.

"I can't –"

"When will you start to trust me?" My hands rested comfortably against his chest. "Bring your groceries and I'll make us dinner."

The hand in my hair moved to my face, thumb tracing my bottom lip with a small smile. "I'm meant to be takin' care of you."

"Yet I'm leading the way as usual." I scoffed pulling away to grab my suitcase, waiting expectantly by the door. "Well, are you coming or not, Barnes?"

"Right behind you, ma'am." He grabbed his hat and groceries, following my lead.

* * *

 _REVIEWS ALWAYS WELCOMED._


	34. Pull the Thorns From Your Heart

**CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR – Pull the Thorns From Your Heart**

"You cook for Steve like this?"

Bucky's question stole my attention from our empty plates, his curious eyes watching me for telltale signs of deceit. Ever since we'd arrived at the apartment, he'd been vigilant, contemplating each movement and gaze as if expecting the worse from me. I assumed he'd weaved an escape plan together, despite my reassurances of safety.

"Sometimes. We have meals together at the facility, all of the Avengers, especially after a hard day I like to cook for everyone." I reached for my glass of wine polishing off the last mouthful. "But I don't think you meant it in a polite way."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"You want to know if there's something more than friendship between us."

He shrugged carelessly, but his jaw tensed revealing a tinge of jealousy simmering under his cool facade. "I figure he's the only man in the world who gets what it's like being a super soldier."

"Yes, we have that in common," I replied rising from the chair, collecting the dishes to place in the sink.

"You two have a lot in common."

"Yes, we do."

To tempt him at any time was dangerous. HYDRA's conditioning would've held stubbornly on somewhere in his mind, a simple word unlocking the only person who'd almost succeeded in ending my life. Twice.

"None of that means I'm sleeping with him." I faced him, combing my hair over a shoulder.

"Have you?"

I folded my arms across my chest. "I think you already know the answer to that."

"Maybe I don't know you as well as you assume, I do." He countered rising from his chair. Moving like one of the nights shadows, his energy dominated the closing space between us, sending a tremor through me that held no fear, only temptation.

"Unlike Steve, I've never lied to you." I counted.

His strong arms passed either side of me, hands bracing against the bench. His gaze obviously lowered to my lips before lazily rising. An emotional hurricane brewed in his eyes upon failing to read my mind, but my cheeks burned as all my thoughts involved indulging my lust.

"But you love him?" He pressed.

"He's my best friend, of course I love him."

"I wouldn't blame you if you two got together."

I sighed, the knot in my stomach relaxing as I pushed his human arm away to escape. "For an expert assassin you can pretty damn dumb."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're a moron! Do you really think I would've flown halfway across the world to see you, if I was dating Steve? Or anyone for that matter?" I posed the question more harshly than intended, but he seemed to be thinking it over.

"Or how about this? Do you think I would've risked my life taking on the Winter Soldier if I wasn't hopelessly in love with you? How many laws do I have to break? How many people do I have to lie and betray before it penetrates that thick skull of yours that I love you, James Barnes? I love you! Have since the moment since I met you, you insufferable bastard!"

Without thought, I snatched up a wine glass, throwing it. Bucky moved, narrowly avoiding it as it smashed against the wall behind him.

"That was a little over dramatic, don't you think?" He smirked.

"I swear, Bucky…"

He walked over, arms enfolding me in a protective cage I didn't want to flee.

"I didn't mean to upset you," he spoke softly into my hair, the anger fizzling out. "I just figured maybe things might be easier without me around."

"It wasn't any easier without you," I murmured into his neck, clinging almost desperately to him. "My life hasn't been a complete misery; I have plenty of good memories."

"Name one." He challenged.

"The day I picked up Michael from the orphanage." I leaned back against his arms, a smile tempting his lips.

"You win."

"I'll never forget his chubby little arms wrapping around me when I told him he was coming home with me, that we were going to be a family."

Bucky's hand rose to my face, thumb wiping away the tears unwittingly rolling down my cheeks. His lips kissed away the dampness remaining, tasting the last lingering salty tear on my bottom lip. Nose to nose, hot breaths mixing, the quiet passion we'd suppressed for decades ignited with a kiss.

Unexpected, hands began fumbling with clothes, searching desperately for first contact with skin. A delighted sigh passed my lips as he carelessly tore open my blouse, hands skimming along my torso, his touch surprisingly gentle as he rediscovered the contours of my body. I pushed his hoodie off his shoulders, stumbling back out of my ballet flats as he roughly pulled off his t-shirt. I reached for him, fingers brushing over the bumpy seam where flesh met metal.

"Are you sure about this?" I whispered, lips fluttering just out of his reach.

"You're just as insufferable, but I love you."

I smiled, fighting a laugh as he scooped me up and carried me into the bedroom.

-x-

"What's this?" Bucky abandoned dressing, reaching into my suitcase for the tin box buried between folded clothes as I ran a comb through my wet hair.

"It's just a box I keep mementos in."

"Looks familiar."

I watched in the mirror as his fingers brushed over the worn exterior, seemingly unaware of the history held within. I left the bathroom, arms sliding around his waist as I came up behind him.

"You can open it if you want."

He debated internally for a long moment before flicking the lid open, revealing the dog-eared photograph of us from the war. "Seems a lifetime ago."

"It was." I sweetly kissed his bare back, pulling away to sit on the unmade bed. "Pass it here, there's some letters you might want to read."

He handed it over so could shift through the contents for a couple of yellowed envelopes.

"They might not look like much, but you wrote them while I was with HYDRA. You gave them to me when I had no memory of you, hoping it might jog something."

"But it didn't."

"No, it didn't, but I think your kiss did, though."

He smiled. "I can't believe you kept them." He turned them over pulling a well creased letter from within.

"For a long time, it was the only piece of you I had left. Your words, your hopes and plans for a future together gave me strength to go on when some days I wanted to give up."

"I can't imagine you giving up on anything." He remarked knowingly, sitting beside me as he read his own thoughtful words. "It drove me crazy not knowing what happened to you, going into every base hoping you'd be there."

I placed a hand on his arm drawing his gaze.

"And the one day you were, you didn't know me. I don't know how you've done it all these years."

"Too stubborn to give up I guess."

"Now that I believe." He chuckled carefully tucking the letter into its envelope and placed it in the tin only to discover my most prized trinket. "You found it." He held up the engagement ring in the morning sunlight.

"Steve found it with your things. He said you'd had it awhile."

"I got it when we got back to London. I told Steve I'd met this ballsy nurse who'd gone after HYDRA." His face lit up with familiar warmth, my Bucky present and clear right beside me, where I'd always wanted.

"And he believed you?"

"Yeah, turned out he'd fallen for a girl pretty similar to you."

"My best friend in fact. She was the one training me at camp all those times I snuck away."

"That English dame?"

I nodded. "Peggy Carter." My heart instantly ached to think of her, fingers digging into his warm flesh.

"She still around?"

"Yes, but I don't think for much longer. She's been unwell the past few years…dementia has practically stolen her away."

"I'm sorry, Gin."

I leaned against his side inhaling his fresh soapy scent. "Once she's gone, you and Steve are all that's left of the past. She's been my anchor for so long, I don't quite know what life will be like without her."

"Maybe that's where I come back in," he suggested slowly, holding up the ring.

"You don't mean…"

"Take it as a promise that we'll find our way back to each other."

I pulled away. "I need more than that, Bucky. I want the life we dreamed of, that you wrote of and wanted when you brought that ring."

"I can't give you that life –"

"Then give me any life that's with me at your side." I pleaded without any sort of desperation, just a shred of hope our dreams were in reach despite the circumstances forced upon us.

"Gin –"

"I love you, Bucky. No super soldier serum or threat of an international manhunt will change that."

He couldn't stop the smile curving his lips. "You'd live with me on the run?"

"Wherever it takes us, I'll be with you." I promised. "So, if you put that ring on my finger, you better marry me."

He nodded. "Well, least I can do then is propose properly."

"That sounds like a plan."

"The only plan I've got." He slipped off the bed and onto a knee. "Genevieve Renard, you are the most stubborn, impatient, intelligent dame I've ever met, and I'm a lucky sonofagun to have snagged you in the first place." My hand trembled as he reached for it. "I can't promise you things will be easy, but I'll always love you and want you at my side, if you'll have me as your husband."

"Mrs. Genevieve Barnes…it does have a nice ring to it." I smiled.

He slipped the ring onto my finger and swooped in to steal a kiss.

* * *

 _REVIEWS ALWAYS WELCOMED._


	35. Free Fall Without A Parachute

**CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE – Free Fall Without A Parachute**

"What is it?"

I looked up from my cell phone, its vibration interrupting a quiet afternoon walk around the neighborhood. "Something's happened at home, Steve's asked me to come in."

"Must be important."

I scrolled through another couple of messages, both sent by Tony. the words lit up on the screen reminded me of a world I'd left behind. Alone with Bucky, living simply, I could've stayed in this state of bliss forever. However, my past seemed determined not to let me go.

"The government's trying to interfere with Avenger operations, they want to put a leash on the team."

I didn't like anything I read from both men and sent a hasty reply to Steve letting him know I was homebound despite my reluctance.

"You need to go." Bucky's statement held no undertones of anything other than the realization someone needed me more than him.

"You know I wouldn't go unless it was dire." I offered a small smile, a useless apology as he reached for my hand, entwining our fingers.

"It's gotta be important if Steve's hounding you."

We headed back to the apartment.

"I hate to leave you like this." I grabbed my suitcase, throwing clothes into it. "These past few weeks have been amazing."

"I'll be at my place when you get back." Bucky went into the bathroom to grab my toilet bag, handing it over as he kissed my temple.

"I have to tell Steve; he deserves to know you're doing well."

"Will he want to see me?"

"Are you kidding? I won't be able to stop him." I smiled hastily gathering the rest of my things together before seeing a message from Michael.

"Is he sending someone to get you?"

"Michael's in Istanbul on a supply run, he's already in the air." I glanced at my watch calculating the journey times. "We should be stateside sometime around one am." I zipped up the suitcase and grabbed a jacket to pull on.

Every movement began to feel forced, a weight lowering upon my shoulders as I stepped back into the familiar spy shoes I longed to throw away.

Bucky gently grabbed my face, strong gaze holding me in place, seemingly understanding the transition unfolding before him. "You'll be back before you know it."

"I hate goodbyes, especially with you," I murmured, hands clutching his hoodie.

"It's not like the other times, sweetheart, we're together now."

He rushed in, pressing our lips together in an urgent kiss. I clung to him, hands desperately holding him until the moment he broke away. He started pulling away from me, slipping back to slink into the shadows he felt comfortable in.

"I love you, James Barnes."

"I know, sweetheart." He smiled, my fingers releasing his arms and letting him go.

Grabbing my suitcase, I left the apartment. Every fiber in my body pressured me to look back, steal a glance in case it was my last. But I didn't look back, trying to believe his words. It wouldn't be the last time I saw him; we'd found our way back to each other just like all the other times before, except when I returned this time, I knew I'd never leave Bucky again.

-x-

Outside the city at a small airfield, I left a taxi and walked towards a Quinjet, unable to stop a smile as I rushed towards Michael, almost throwing myself into his open arms.

"I've missed you." I gave him an extra squeeze before releasing him.

"Me too. You wanna tell me what you're doing in Bucharest?"

I followed him to the front of the jet, strapping myself into the co-pilots chair. "Can't your mother go on vacation?"

"She can, but she usually doesn't." He went through the startup procedures, eyes trained on the task but still expecting an answer.

"Bucky called me."

His blue eyes widened, hands slipping from his headset. "What?"

"I know, it shocked me too, but he called and asked to see me."

"And? You're still alive so I'm guessing the Winter Soldier is still under wraps."

"Yes, Michael," I frowned at him motioning for him to focus on the takeoff. "A lot of his memory has come back."

"Shit, and you haven't told Steve, again?" He groaned easing the Quinjet into the air.

"I didn't want to mention anything until I knew for sure what was happening. I plan on telling him as soon as I land."

"Good, 'cause he's got enough on his plate without you lying to him again."

"Thank you for reminding me of my shortcomings, _son_ , I'm well aware of the mess I left behind. I hoped I'd brought some time for rational heads to prevail."

"Yeah, didn't happen," he replied. "Secretary Ross is more determined than ever, most of the facility has been shut down and people moved to other facilities."

"What? Why didn't you call me?"

"You were on vacation, apparently."

"Where's Mariko?"

"She's still at base, but she's got offers from Washington and Harvard. We're not sure where to go yet."

"I didn't want it to end up like this." I sighed watching as Bucharest grew smaller beneath us.

"It's not your fault, things haven't been good since S.H.I.E.L.D fell, I guess it was only a matter of time before the government got what they wanted."

"Maybe it's time to think about an exit strategy."

"Like you and Barnes running off into the sunset?"

"That would be nice," I glanced at my hand and the engagement ring catching the afternoon sun. "Even if it means being off the grid, at least we'd be together."

"About bloody time." Michael muttered.

"What about that charter business you told me about?"

"It was just an idea. Pepper said she'd give me a job flying the jet for Stark Industries." He glanced at me, blue orbs burning into me. "You're really serious about leaving this time, aren't you?"

I slowly nodded. "It's time."

"You don't gotta feel guilty about it, mom, you've given enough and now I've got Mariko, you don't need to worry so much about me either."

I reached across to pat his shoulder. "I'm your mom, it's my job to worry about you over everything else."

"You know what I mean." He rolled his eyes.

"I love you so much for saying that, but we better focus on what's waiting at home."

"Yippee." He sighed.

-x-

Secretary Ross gave me a curt nod as he passed, the silence of the room erupting into chatter the moment the door closed behind him after his impassionate plea for us to see his righteous point of view. I ran a hand back through my hair, catching the stiffness in Steve's posture. I'd passed my burden onto him, and he'd managed to carry it better than I, but even a super soldier could falter beneath the pressure currently tearing what was left of our world apart.

"Gin, back me up here." Tony's attention cast an uncomfortable spotlight as I lingered awkwardly at the back of the room.

"I don't really get to have an opinion –"

"Gin," Steve frowned looking back over his shoulder at me. "You're still apart of this team, what do you think?"

I stood moving to the towards the board table, glancing around at the Avengers and the thick book of the Sokovia Accords sitting ominously in the middle. "I think I've been in this life too long, that I've seen the pros and cons of government intervention enough to believe their best interests have nothing to do with protecting people."

"What?" Tony scoffed. "You of all people should understand what we're trying to do."

"That's the point, Tony, I do understand, but I don't believe a committee deciding when and how we act will solve anything," I explained myself as gently as I could. "The Avengers were brought together to go into the field when others couldn't. We go in to save as many people as we can, making difficult decisions in the field that a person behind a desk will never understand. You know that, Tony."

"Does everyone know how much slack the government cut you after the war?"

Every muscle in my body tensed, winding up to meet the pit of dread forming in my stomach. I glanced back at him as he rose from the chair, ready to pick a fight with the one person who'd always been in his corner.

"Tony, please don't make this personal," I begged quietly. "I'm not here to fight with you."

"First there was the whole HYDRA agent thing, you killed Nazi's which was great, but you also killed politicians, enemy soldiers, allied soldiers. And then with the SSR, they actually fired you!"

"Tony, you need to stop." Steve's cautionary tone did nothing to impede Tony from detouring off his verbal warpath, not when he was in his element.

"Every HYDRA soldier you came across, ended up with his head caved in. You used your bare hands, right? But my old man managed to smooth things over with the brass, who knew you were no Captain America." Tony walked towards me, arrogantly invading my personal space.

"And then there's the Winter Soldier," he glanced sideways at Steve, rising from his chair, Sam mirroring his action behind me. The two of them ready to step between us should I give into the festering anger.

"You knew who he was for years, didn't you, Gin? You let an assassin…no, a serial killer run free because you had a crush on him. But you don't think having set rules in place is a good idea?"

"Are you done?" I strained to break my voice over a whisper.

"Yeah, I think that covers everything."

A hard slap sent Tony stumbling back from me. "I love you, Tony, but don't you dare speak to me like that ever again. Do you understand me?"

His jaw tightened as he curtly nodded, the mark of fury rapidly forming across his cheek.

I refused to meet the gazes of the others sitting silently around the table, unwilling to discover what they thought of me in the light of this revelation. I knew my past was drenched in the pain and blood of others. I'd unwittingly carved a path of destruction – a mess I would forever atone for.

-x-

Harden fists connected with a boxing bag. The weight adjusted every time it received a determined knock. Angry bursts of air parted my lips, yet the rage still bubbled beneath the surface, refusing to budge despite not wanting to hold a grudge against my godson.

I'd tolerated a lot from him over the years and anyone else questioning my loyalty to my adopted home country, but the irresponsible way he'd brought up my past in front of everyone was embarrassing. He's stripped me down and exhibited my flaws for public scrutiny. Attempted to turn everyone against me for the sake of his cause.

"Gin," Steve's voice called to me, entering the gym.

"Just leave me alone for a bit, okay?"

"Gin!"

I puffed stepping away from the bag, turning to my friend, ready to fight him when his defeated look abruptly changed my mind. All the color drained from his face, a torrent of emotion brewing across his features until only sadness remained. I'd seen the same look the day he told me Bucky had fallen from the HYDRA train.

"What's happened?"

"She's gone…she's gone." The words struggled above a whisper yet destroyed my already fractured emotional state.

"Not Peg…" I trailed off as he nodded, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. "No…no…"

Overwhelmed by the instant wave of crushing grief, Steve moved towards me, arms enfolding me as we dropped to the floor.

* * *

 _REVIEWS ALWAYS WELCOMED._


	36. Lungs Like Gallows

**CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX** **–** **Lungs Like Gallows**

I battled through the grief. Fighting at least enough to portray a mask of normalcy to fit in with everyone else. Inside, the shattered pieces of my very existence resisted the urge to rebuild. As after losing Bucky during the war, I recognized the aching sorrow would sour me a little more.

I sat stiffly posed through the pageantry of Peggy's funeral; aware she would've despised the heavenly choir and grand speeches. Steve's hand covering my clenched fists managed to subside the violent flow of emotions raging within me.

"Mom?"

Michael's voice snapped me from my thoughts. I drained the scotch from the glass surprised to find myself still in the hotel bar. "I'm okay, Michael." I pulled my hair loose from its ponytail hold, running a hand back through the kinks.

"No, you're not."

"No, I'm not."

As hard as I tried to sound upbeat, my words were as effective as the alcohol.

"I should've been there beside her."

"Don't do that to yourself, mom." Michael loosened his plain black tie, dropping onto a stool beside me. He motioned to the bartender for another round. "It was a nice funeral, even though Peggy would've hated it."

I reached for the fresh glass of scotch placed before me. "She would've wanted something like this," I motioned to the two of us. "People who knew her, telling old stories over a few drinks, like we'd done so many times before." I stared into the glass, tears prickling behind my eyes.

"Well, it got me thinking about things, and I'm gonna take Pepper up on her offer."

"Flying her jet?"

He nodded as I looked up. "Mariko's applied for a job at Stark Industries too, so we're gonna base ourselves in New York."

"That's good." A genuine smile touched my lips for the first time in days. Polishing off the scotch, I reached for my purse, grabbing a set of keys. "You'll need this, consider it an early wedding gift." I pulled off a key setting it before Michael.

"Mom, is that to the apartment in Brooklyn?"

"Yes. Brooklyn isn't cheap these days, and you don't need to worry about finding a place with everything else you've got going on."

He blew out a shaky breath, picking up the key to turn over in his hands. He'd spent a good chunk of his life there, his bedroom practically untouched since his teen years. "This is too much, mom, you could've got us a toaster, we need a toaster."

"Steve can get you a toaster." I smiled laying a hand on his arm, forcing his damp gaze to lift. "I'm so proud of you, Michael and I love Mariko. I want the two of you to be happy, to have the life together I didn't."

He slid off the stool, moving around to embrace me. I sighed, burying my nose in his jacket. His reassuring scent of home gave me the strength to release him to his blossoming new life. He'd become the man I always hoped.

"You two okay?"

We parted as Steve and Sharon approached looking comfortably close. Curiosity raised, I shot him a look, watching an instant redness color his cheeks. He curtly shook his head, a silent plea to leave my questions for another time.

"Michael was just telling me about his new job at Stark Industries." I beamed at him as we stood arm in arm. "It's the best news I've heard all week."

"Hey," Sam rushed over, concerned features signaling a change in events. "There's something you gotta see."

We followed Sam to the nearest television. The rolling coverage showed a building in Vienna, its facade blown wide open revealing fires burning within.

"Isn't that where the Accords were being signed?" Michael and I glanced at each other.

"Yes, and Natasha's meant to be there." I replied looking at Steve, his gaze transfixed on the broadcast. "I should call her." I reached into my pocket, freezing as part of the broadcast caught my attention.

 _"… officials have released a video of a suspect, identified as James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier."_

"No, that's impossible." I shook my head in disbelief as the grainy video displayed Bucky's features.

"Gin, we don't know…" Steve trailed off, my dark look cutting him off.

"I have to go to work." Sharon sighed coming between us, pocketing her cellphone. "Are you guys coming with me?"

"Of course." Steve nodded.

"You gotta tell him, mom," Michael muttered as we hugged again.

"I will." I promised leaving him to pursue Steve and Sam.

-x-

An internal debate commanded my attention during the flight to Vienna. I couldn't find the right words to put together. Whether there were any right words to expose my betrayal was another debate. I knew with every fiber in my body Bucky wasn't to blame for the UN bombing. He wouldn't risk his recovery or be stupid enough to get caught on camera.

As Sharon descended the steps from the private jet, I reached for Steve, catching his arm and pulling it against my chest to hold my friend close.

"Gin, we've gotta go."

"I know where Bucky is, and he's not here in Vienna."

"What?" Anger, hard and cruel in the face of another betrayal, Steve pulled his arm from my grasp. If I were a man, I don't think he would've hesitated to punch me in the face.

"I wanted to tell you when I got back from Europe, but with the Accords and then Peg… everything happened so fast I didn't get the chance."

"Gin, tell me where he is."

"Bucharest, Romania." I answered unable to stop the tremor in my tone. Steve was the last person in the world I wanted to hurt, but I couldn't look my best friend in the eye and face his irritation.

"That's where you went?"

I nodded, shame burning my cheeks as I averted my gaze to the floor.

"You're gonna tell me exactly where he is, and then you're gonna stay here with Sharon."

"What?" I blurted, startled by his sharp orders. "You can't just put me on the sidelines, you're going to need my help, he trusts me–"

"I've got all the help I need; from people I can trust."

His words slapped me, the accusation of disloyalty stinging as badly as my grief. Silently I retrieved my cellphone from my pocket, sending the address to his. He nodded at Sam, the two of them departing the jet as I stood alone.

-x-

Steve's big idea of being under Sharon's watchful eye lasted until we reached Berlin, headquarters for the Joint Terrorism taskforce she was attached too. Head of her unit, Everett Ross greeted us upon arrival, slapping specially designed cuffs on my wrists.

"I'm sorry, I didn't get a say." Sharon shot me an apologetic look.

"It's okay. Keep an eye on my boys."

She curtly nodded.

The little man dressed in an expensive suit couldn't contain his glee as he personally escorted me to a concrete room – a cell located someplace deep in the bowels of the building. The only exit was a single door, evidently reinforced to hold someone of my enhancements.

"Until Barnes is in custody, you, Miss. Renard will remain here. I won't have you compromising my efforts to bring Barnes in." He undid the cuffs.

"He's not the man you think he is," I replied confidently, dropping onto the lone clear plastic chair in the room. "He's not responsible for what happened in Vienna, someone is framing him."

"You can justify his actions all you want, but you interfere with my business and I'll hand you over to Secretary Ross, who I might add, has a cell at the Raft all set up for you."

"Mine was probably the first one built, he's never really liked me."

"Doesn't surprise me, not many apparently do."

I flashed Everett a cold smile as he walked over of the room, the door closing behind him. Sighing, bolts seemingly shifted into place, trapping me inside walls I couldn't fight my way through.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath. "How you going to fix this mess, Renard?"

* * *

 _REVIEWS ALWAYS WELCOMED._

 _Slight delay on new chapters due to rewrites_


	37. War Paint

**CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN – War Paint**

Time didn't register. I didn't even attempt to search the concrete walls for a weakness to expose an escape plan. I'd been in an uncomfortable spot like this so many times before I'd lost count.

Assumptions became my only distraction, I studied various scenarios - Steve finding Bucky or worse, someone like Everett discovering his whereabouts with orders to shoot first and ask questions later. Nothing brought me comfort. This only ended one way – Bucky captured. If we were lucky, maybe Secretary Ross would consider putting us in adjoining cells at the Raft.

The sinister glare of emergency lighting snapped me to attention. I rose from the chair as a wailing cry of a siren sounded in the distance causing an eruption of goosebumps across my flesh.

"Well," I murmured. "That can't be good."

When the bolts of the door began moving, and I readily myself for a fight, hard fists raising, only to lower when Sharon's apprehensive features appeared in the opening light.

"What's happened?"

"Barnes' escaped. He was being interviewed by a psychiatrist when the system went down." She handed me a Glock and cellphone. "Follow me."

"Sharon, I can't let you risk your job for me. Peg–"

"She would've done the same thing."

"Where are the others?" I tucked the Glock in the back of my black pants and slid the cellphone in my blazer pocket, trailing her hurried steps up several flights of stairs.

"Steve and Sam went after Barnes, but, Gin… Tony is here, he's working with Secretary Ross. They want Barnes extradited to the U.S."

My heart sank. "I can't let that happen, I'll never see him again."

"I know." She agreed leading us into an airy space, only to be yanked back. "What is it?"

My firm grasp of her arm moved her to safety behind me. "He's there."

Sounds of a fight came from the open dining area. I stole a peek around a pillar to see Bucky fighting a handful of armed men. Staunch in his movements he fought everybody with precise, machine like efficiency, swatting them violently away as they came between him and his escape route.

"Gin, what's happening?"

"That's not Bucky," my parched throat struggled to get the words out. "That's the Winter Soldier."

"Are you sure?"

"I should know, he's tried to kill me twice." I rested back against the cool wall, glancing at her.

"What's the plan?"

"If you can distract him, maybe I can get a sleeper hold on him."

"Will that work?"

"If not, I'll just have to hit him in the head, hope it scrambles the conditioning."

A gun shot drew my attention. I looked round to witness Tony standing off against the Winter Soldier. Instinct took over. Despite the quarrel a few days before, I needed to protect my godson from a fight he'd never win.

"STOP!"

The Winter Soldier threw Tony cleanly across the room, giving me the opportunity to step in. I'd witnessed the emotionless stare of the Winter Soldier in the past, and it still unnerved me to know my Bucky was in there somewhere. I exhaled a breath and closed in fast, delivering multiple short, severe punches to his mid-section. My clenched fist flew upwards, driving up into his chin sending him staggering backwards.

"Your name is James Barnes! Remember that!"

A sever look unchanged, he stomped forward to engage me yet again. We matched each other blow for blow, years of experience allowing us to fight with polished efficiently. Until he got in a sneaky punch. The shot to the ribs sent ripples of pain through me, stealing a breath and giving him the upper hand. A hard metal fist to the face sent me reeling. Just within reach those familiar metal fingers clutched my throat, lifting my feet off the ground as he slammed me violently into a concrete pillar.

The taste of copper flooded my mouth as he dropped me like a useless toy. The painful clench of my jaw released upon hearing someone else engage the Winter Soldier, only to fail moments later. His mission only revealed itself to him alone, and no one was going to put him down, God knows we were trying.

I spat a mouthful of blood on the floor, bracing a hand against the bitter cold concrete as I heaved myself up onto my knees.

"Gin!" Sharon crawled her way to my side, looking a little worse for wear but physically intact.

"Are you okay?" I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

"Just a bruised ego."

"He does have the effect on people," I muttered.

"He really took it out on you."

"I do have that effect on people."

Her worried blue eyes bored into mine as we stood. "You have to go after him before they kill him."

"Are you sure?"

"Go, you'll get lost in the confusion."

I flashed her a feeble smile and took off in the opposite direction. Lost in the chaotic movement of the crowd abandoning the building, I slipped down a side street to catch my breath, carefully lifting my shirt to see the Winter Soldier's wrath bruising my flesh.

Options slim and unsure how to find Bucky I reached for cellphone, a message vibrating the device. The lit-up screen displayed an address, sent by an unknown number. Considering my lack of options, I headed off for the location, hoping luck was on my side for once.

-x-

Sam lingered outside an abandoned warehouse, relaxing in obvious relief as I approached.

"You got my message."

"I'm glad it was you; I was worried it was Ross."

"Sharon gave us the number. You okay, Renard?" He motioned to the hand holding my side.

"Nothing I can't handle." I forced a smile, each breath a struggle to hold. "Is Steve here?"

"Yeah, so is Barnes."

"Are they okay?"

"Barnes is himself again apparently." Sam didn't sound positive, and I couldn't blame him after the rampage we'd endured just to get Bucky back to this point.

A flush of shame covered my face as I walked with Sam through the grim remnants of the warehouse towards Steve. No apology would cover my ass this time. I'd worn Steve's patience thin and twisted fingers of fear clawed at me, leaving no bravado to hide behind if he cast me from his life for good.

"Steve, I–"

"Gin," he interrupted without a trace of anger. "You don't need to explain. Sharon told me what happened, if I'd known they'd lock you up I would've come for you."

"Would you really?"

He swallowed hard, leaving the question hanging as he went to Bucky who seemed to be stirring, undoing a giant clasp securing his metal arm.

"He was worried about you," Sam murmured.

"Not as worried as I am. Everett Ross is looking for any excuse to lock me up."

"I don't know."

Bucky's pained voice interrupted our discussion. I walked over, the anguish all too visible on his face.

"People are dead, the bombing was a setup, and the doctor did all that just to get ten minutes with you. I need you to do better than I don't know."

"He wanted to know about Siberia…where I was kept," Bucky frowned looking up at us, his gaze lingering on me longer than the others. "He wanted to know exactly where."

"Why would he need to know that?" Steve questioned folding his arms against his chest.

"'Cause I'm not the only Winter Soldier."

The wave of dread consumed the space, enfolding us all like a thick blanket. The exploits of the Winter Soldier were legend, yet to learn more existed could mean the devastation was only just beginning. HYDRA appeared to have one backup plan after another, never fully allowing their malevolent grip to release.

"Gin, did you know about any of this?" The hint of accusation from Steve was a virtual slap to the face.

"Of course not! But there's been no shortage of people wanting to recreate the super soldier serum over the years. That's how I discovered Bucky was the Winter Soldier, I was kidnapped by people wanting my blood to create a serum."

"You got kidnapped?" Sam scoffed.

"I am still human." I retorted with the same mockery.

When Sam and Steve moved aside to converse quietly, Bucky rose.

"I hurt you again," he muttered shamefully, mournful eyes lingering on the mark causing the ache in my face. "I didn't want too–"

"I know, don't worry about it." His forehead dropped lightly against mine, his panic fading the longer he basked in my presence. "You weren't in control; I know it wasn't you."

"I could've killed someone." His arms wound possessively around me, my body inadvertently winching causing him to break the hold. "What is it?"

"Nothing," I blushed. "We'll find a way to clear your name–"

"Gin, you're hurt."

"It's nothing–"

"You're a terrible liar." He reached for the hem of my shirt where my hands awkwardly lingered, lifting it to reveal the bruises tattooing my flesh. "Gin," he sadly exhaled.

"A broken rib or two, lucky for me I heal fast." I gently pushed my shirt down. "Don't worry about me, you've got to go on with Steve."

"No–"

I clung to his hands. "He's not very happy with me, he found out about us being together and–"

"I'll talk to him." Bucky pulled away, taking my hand as he dragged me over to Steve and Sam. "Whatever the plan is, Gin's coming with us."

Steve glanced between us and then at Sam.

"Hey, don't bring me into your love triangle. I've got a call to make." He walked away.

"Buck–"

"Steve, you remember how crazy I went looking for her? All those places we went into, not knowing what was on the other side. The things I did when I finally got my hands on someone."

"I remember."

"You never told me anything about that." My hands wound around Bucky's arm, the muscles tensing.

"I was outta my mind, Gin." He dropped a hand on Steve's shoulder. "She hasn't done anything you wouldn't."

Steve sighed, his entire body relaxing as I figured he finally realized we'd been working not so different paths towards the same cause. We both wanted Bucky back.

"We do work better together than apart."

"You certainly don't get arrested when I'm around."

Steve nodded with a fading smile. "Tony's not gonna stop."

"I know, but this is bigger than his ego, real lives are at risk. We can't let those soldiers be released; the world can't handle the three of us let alone five more."

"Do you think Sharon can help us?"

"Only if you call her." I teased.

Fighting a blush Steve took the cellphone I extended to him.

"This ain't gonna be easy."

"I'd be concerned if was." Unnerved and determined we exchanged a look. We had to fix things for good this time.

* * *

 _REVIEWS ALWAYS WELCOMED._


	38. Lifeboats

**CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT – Lifeboats**

"We should've taken the Jeep." A weary sigh blew pass my lips as I glanced at my watch, unsure how far behind the taskforce would be. With their seemingly unlimited resources it wouldn't be long before a net closed in around us.

"This is low-profile apparently." Sam retorted from the passenger seat of the Volkswagen Beetle.

"We would've been low-profile in the Jeep, and comfortable."

Bucky shifted beside me in the cramp confines of the backseat. "Can you move your seat up?"

"No." Sam didn't turn around. The two of them reminding me of trips I endured with Michael and his friends as children.

"We should've taken the Jeep."

"Alright, grandma, I get the point."

"You know her?" Bucky nodded his head towards Steve and Sharon conversing beside her vehicle at our prearranged meeting point under a bridge.

"Practically her whole life, she's Peggy Carter's niece."

"You didn't think to tell us that before?" Sam asked.

"It wasn't my secret to tell."

"Don't know how you keep track of all your secrets." He glanced back at me.

"In a binder with color coded tabs." My ragged breath drew Bucky's protection, his arm dropping around my shoulders.

"You don't gotta be brave all the time, y'know that, right?"

"I need to be focused on the fight, there's no time for anything else."

"We ain't fighting right now; we've got time so tell me what's rattling round that pretty head of yours."

Picking at the dirt under a chipped nail, Bucky's hand fell to stop my fidgeting, gaze trained on my face.

"He should know, Renard." Sam's voice broke my trance and Bucky's fowl look in his direction made me speak up.

"When we heard about the bombing, we'd just returned from Peggy's funeral."

The second a tear escaped, trailing down my face, Bucky drew me close against his side. The warm comfort of home was found in his embrace. I clutched desperately at his shirt, allowing some of the grief to break free from my fragile control.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, I know you two were close."

"She's been the one constant in my life, always there when I needed someone. I don't know how to live in a world without her."

His cool metal fingers slid along my jaw, lowering to the simple chain around my neck, holding my locket and engagement ring. "I'm gonna keep my promise this time."

"What promise?"

"To find a way to live a life together."

"I got a message from Barton, he's here." Steve announced dropping into the driver's seat. He glanced back at us as I self-consciously wiped my damp face. "It's not a long drive."

"Has he heard from Tony or anyone else?"

"No, but I doubt they're far away."

I relaxed against Bucky's side during the short drive to the airport. The tense apprehension was something familiar, something usually experienced before a mission. As prepared as we thought we were, several unknowns could derail Steve's plan, landing us in a cell.

Steve pulled up a space over from a plain white van. Clint Barton hopping out to greet him.

"You know these guys?"

"They're friends, we can trust them." I climbed out of the Volkswagen behind Bucky, hope filling me for the first time in days. "Wanda!"

I rushed around the Volkswagen to embrace the girl. She clung tightly to me. "Are you okay?" I leaned back to give her a motherly once over.

"I am now."

My smile faded as we parted to a voice over the loudspeaker echoing through the parking garage.

"They're evacuating the airport." Bucky translated.

"Suit up." Steve ordered.

I reached for Wanda, her young features a picture of purpose to whatever waited for us. "Whatever comes next, stay safe, don't be a hero."

"I'll try my best." She grabbed a duffle bag from the van, passing it over. "You'll need this."

With a fading smile, I walked back over to Bucky, opening the duffle to pull out a tactical bodysuit among the equipment Wanda and Clint must've acquired from the Avengers facility.

"You close to that girl?"

I tossed Bucky a vest. "She along with her twin brother survived a HYDRA experiment a couple of years ago. She can move things with her mind."

"Seriously?"

"We're not so special after all." I carefully pulled off my blazer, Bucky snatching it before I tossed it aside. "What are you doing?"

"You ain't undressing in front of everyone." He held up the blazer between us as I undid my pants.

"You remember I survived being in the field with the Howling Commandos, right?" I gently got myself into the bodysuit, the fabric different yet superior to other bodysuits I'd worn in the past.

"I remember that time we got snowed in that barn."

A knowing smile crept on my face as I secured the belt. "Poor Monty, he got quite the shock that night. He couldn't look me in the eye for two weeks."

"There weren't any more midnight bathroom trips either."

I chuckled, taking the boots he handed me.

"Even then we had some good times, didn't we?"

I reached for his vest, zipping it up and rested my hands against his chest, looking up at his pleasant features. "There were some really good times, and when all this is behind us, we'll get the chance to have more."

"Maybe go back to your place in France?" He suggested with a smile.

"I'd like that."

"You two ready?" Steve clicked his helmet into place as we nodded.

"What are you orders, Captain?"

"Gin, I want you to secure the Quinjet while the rest of us deal with Stark."

"I can fight, Steve–"

"I know, but I'm not gonna put you in that position. If things go south, someone needs to get to that base and shut it down."

"You'll want Hanger Five, Gin."

I nodded at Clint and the rest of them as they took off. Bucky hung back, curling an arm round my waist to draw me close. His kiss took me back to the past, where in a moment of jealousy my feelings revealed themselves and tangled us together for seven decades.

A slow smile curved his lips as we parted, the warmth in his eyes a kind reminder he truly was back. "Promise you'll wait for me?"

"James Barnes, I have made a career out of waiting for you." I laughed.

"So, we fight to come back to each other then?"

My hands cupped his face, thumb brushing over his rough beard. "You've already come back to me, any time together from now on is a blessing."

"I'll see you soon." He promised with another chase kiss to my lips before pulling away.

"I love you!"

"I know, sweetheart." He replied jogging after Steve.

Heading in the opposite direction, my path around the airport went undetected. An eeriness made my footsteps sound louder than they were, distracting my thoughts from the numbing pain consuming my upper body. Despite my desire to fight alongside my friends, I wasn't a hundred percent, and a liability they couldn't afford with Bucky's freedom on the line.

Instinct drew a weapon, the eruption of various explosions in the distant drawing me to the shadow of a pillar. Glock in hand I could only assume my friends were in the fight of their lives and I needed to get to the hanger quickly. Whether they were at my side or not, my mission couldn't be delayed.

"You got this, Renard." I exhale a shallow breath, calming my heartbeat enough to refocus myself and keep moving.

Approaching the hanger, I entered through a side door. Quinjet insight I came to abrupt stop barely a foot inside I held back swearing aloud.

"I should've known." I nodded my head at Natasha as she approached from the opposite side of the hanger.

For a moment we could ignore the obvious noises of our friends still coming to blows outside and approach a delicate matter on how we'd leave the hanger – Quinjet or handcuffs.

"Steve sent you straight for the jet, smart." She complimented.

"He knew I couldn't bear the thought of watching my family tear itself apart."

Natasha came to a stop before me, features softening in mutual understanding. "Families disagree from time to time, or so I've heard."

"We need the jet to go after the fake doctor, before he starts a fight nobody can win. It's not too late, you could come with us."

"It's not that simple–"

"Nothing ever is, Natasha, but sometimes you've got to look past logic, and do what feels right in your bones. I will protect Bucky until my last breath because he deserves the chance to be free."

"Y'know, you said that about me once." A small smile tugged at her lips.

"And I meant it. You were so much more than what they created, and I'm so proud of the woman you've become."

"Even though I sided with Tony?"

"You didn't side with him; you made your own decision."

"And Bucky, he's worth all this?"

"He's worth everything I have and more." No hesitation would be found in my reply as I believed the words with every fiber in my body. "He saved me, but I didn't realize it until I'd lost him. Now it's my turn to save him."

I moved pass her, exhaling a long breath as every step brought me closer to the Quinjet, and unchecked by someone who could've taken me down.

Boarding, Natasha still stood at the entrance of the hanger. I went through the motions of starting the Quinjet, keeping an eye on expertly trained assassin.

"Where are you Steve?" I muttered, drumming my fingers against the pilots' chair when part of a building seemingly dropped like a pile of bricks. Plumes of dust and broken debris littered the entranceway, my heart sinking only for two men to emerge through the disastrous cloud.

I reached for my Glock, studying the brief exchange of words between Steve and Natasha. She allowed the men pass her – Widow stingers halting T'Challa from interring as he emerged from the debris unscathed. The electrical currents barely controlled his movements, but it was enough so make an escape.

"Where are the others?"

"They're gonna buy us some time to get out." Steve passed by, dropping into the pilots' chair.

"What does that mean?"

"Strap yourself in, Gin." He ordered taking control of the Quinjet.

"Steve, what happened out there? Was Tony there?"

I looked to Bucky for answers when Steve refused to respond. "Sit down, Gin."

His quiet tone sent a spark of worry coursing through me, but I held my tongue and strapped myself into the chair across from his. A hand rose to clutch my locket as the Quinjet soared through an opening between the hanger and debris. The carnage below couldn't be unseen, small fires and what looked like a dismantled airplane littered the space, leaving little doubt in my mind we were lucky to be escaping.

"What's gonna happen to your friends?" Bucky finally spoke up when nothing, but clear blue sky surrounded us.

"Whatever it is, I'll deal with it." Steve replied quietly, an unfamiliar hum of unsureness making me shift uncomfortably in my chair.

"I dunno if I'm worth all this, Steve."

"What you did all those years, wasn't you, you didn't have a choice."

"I know, but I did it."

I reached across, dropping a hand on his arm, a small reminder I was at his side. Eventually, his hand covered mind. No words would ever soothe the open wounds of the past, but perhaps shutting down the Siberian base would be the beginning of some closure.

* * *

 _REVIEWS ALWAYS WELCOMED._


	39. ClosureRebirth

**CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE – Closure/Rebirth**

Securing my weapons, a healthy dose of fear gave me the courage to keep moving – to see this mission through until whatever end was uncovered inside the Siberian bunker.

I couldn't however stop the wariness creeping in, foretelling of a danger not yet seen. Whatever ill feeling, the presence of two old friends shone a light on the darkness. Steve and Bucky conversed as if no time parted them, genuine smiles lifting my spirits as it obviously did theirs.

Assault rifle in hand, I came up behind the men, surprised by what I heard.

"… you blew three bucks trying to win that stuffed bear for a red-head."

Bucky laughed. "What was her name again?"

"Dolores, you called her Dot."

"She's gotta be a hundred years old right now."

Steve placed a hand on Bucky's shoulder, the two of them smiling fondly at the other. "So are we, pal."

"A red-head named Dot?"

They looked back at me, smiles fading as I loaded a clip and chambered a round.

"She must have been a sight to catch your attention, Bucky." I nudged him aside as I passed.

"No… not really." He spluttered through his embarrassment, looking to Steve who avoided making any eye contact.

"Oh, and don't go lumping me into your old man category either, I'll have you know I'm only ninety-six." I spun on my heels, marching down the ramp ahead of them.

Surveying the snow shrouded area, only the Quinjet and Snowcat were proof of life in the deserted wasteland – the perfect location for a hidden HYDRA base. In the alcove of a large onyx rockface, steel doors stood open, beckoning us forward.

"I really do hate secret bases." I muttered.

"He can't have been here more than a few hours."

Bucky nodded. "Long enough to wake them up."

Assault rifles raised, me and Bucky followed Steve inside, entering a caged elevator to descend into the bowels of the unknown. A sense of trepidation hung over our heads. A comfortable silence preceding an unspecified fight. Three super soldiers against five, who were supposedly superior in every way possible? I didn't like our odds.

We stepped out of the elevator, moving shoulder-to-shoulder, stalking each other's exact footsteps along the corridor. Just like back in the day of the Howling Commandos we traveled as a unit under Steve's command.

A noise from behind broke our trance. Assault rifles raised, the large steel blast doors pried open by the force of Iron Man. He stepped forward, faceplate opening to reveal Tony's face. A sigh of relief relaxed my tense posture.

"You seem a little defense."

"It's been a long day." Steve sighed.

"At ease, soldier. I'm not currently after you."

"Then why are you here, Tony?" I asked.

"Maybe Cap's story isn't so crazy. Maybe Ross has no idea I'm here. I'd like to keep it that way. Otherwise I have to arrest myself."

"That sounds like a lot of paperwork." The tension in Steve's shoulders relaxed. "It's good to see you, Tony."

"Me too, Cap." Tony glanced over at me and Bucky. "Manchurian Candidate, you're killing me. There's a truce here. You can drop it."

I placed a hand on Bucky's shoulder, and he lowered his assault rifle.

"I got heat signatures." Tony's faceplate closed as we continued along the corridor towards an obscured recess revealing itself as an opening to a large chamber.

"How many?" Steve questioned.

"Uh, one."

"That can't be right." I murmured as the musky chamber erupted with light exposing near thirty-year-old equipment. Large stasis chambers glowed sinisterly in the open space, surrounding what I recognized as the machine HYDRA used for reprogramming soldiers.

I closed my eyes to the memories, shuddering volts halting my steps as I relived the horrific moment of my brain scrambling countless times. Even now after so many years I could feel the leather straps binding me to the chair, preventing an escape from becoming a weapon.

A shaky breath beside me made my eyes open, glancing over at Bucky who appeared to be reliving his own horrors.

"Is this where…" I trailed off as he slowly nodded.

"If it's any comfort, they died in their sleep," a foreign voice spoke through a PA system.

I walked over to the nearest chamber, a clear bullet hole through the glass and head of the man seated inside.

"Did you really think I wanted more of you? I'm grateful to them, though they brought you here."

Steve's shield flew towards the chamber hiding the man who'd been pulling our strings from afar. The shield ricocheted without effect.

"Please, Captain," he said. "The Soviets built this chamber to withstand the launch blast of UR-100 rockets."

I glanced over at Tony as he studied the chambers blueprint, searching for a design flaw to expose. "I'm betting I could beat that."

"Oh, I'm sure you could Mr. Stark, given time. But then you'll never know why you came."

"You killed innocent people in Vienna just to bring us here?" Steve asked walking right up to the chamber.

"I thought about nothing else for over a year. I studied you, I followed you. But now that you are standing here, I just noticed there's a bit of green in the blue of your eyes. How nice to find a flaw."

"You're Sokovian. Is that what this is about?"

The man shook his head, no hint of anger or arrogance in his tone. "Sokovia was a failed state long before you blew it up. No, I'm here because I made a promise."

"You lost someone."

"I've lost everyone. And so, will you." He directed our attention to a video terminal set up. "An empire toppled by its enemies can rise again. But one that crumbles from within? That's dead forever."

We gathered around the monitor, unsure what we'd bear witness too when a grainy black and white surveillance video began playing.

"I know that road," Tony frowned at the screen and then looked wildly around. "What is this?"

 _"Help my wife, please help."_

A quiver of acknowledgement ran down my spine. "Dear God." I whispered.

Howard Stark's voice streaked in various pitches of pain and shock erupted loudly. I instinctively looked at Bucky standing beside me, his head down as he shamefully listened to the recording. Having known the bitter truth for some time, it wasn't any easier to hear the moment play out, to hear my friends' last dying words.

 _"Sergeant Barnes?"_

My body unintentionally shuddered as Maria screamed Howard's name. I could only assume the Winter Soldier was dealing with my old friend in his infamous manner.

Blinking back tears, I turned to Tony, his gaze transfixed on the screen. "Tony don't watch it! Turn it off!"

Steve watched helplessly, until the final gunshot rang out. Tony turned towards me and Bucky, the accusations wordlessly radiating off him. I would've given anything in the world not to have him suffer through this truth. Steve grabbed his arm, holding Tony back from advancing on us.

"Did you know, Gin? Did you know your boyfriend murdered your best friends?"

The brutal rage forming within his dark brown eyes, shattered pieces of me. I couldn't form the words of reply straightaway, mostly because of the immense guilt in holding the secret for so long. After everything Tony and I had been through, I was about to destroy his world and our relationship entirely with a single word.

"Yes," I whispered.

"You…" he trailed off turning on Steve. "Did you know too?"

"I didn't know it was him–"

"Don't bullshit me, Rogers, did you know it was him?"

Steve hesitated and reluctantly nodded. "Yes."

I should've realized the reaction was coming, yet the beginning of the fight caught me off guard. Bucky shoved me out of the way, raising his rifle as Tony attacked.

The assault rifle slipped from my grasp as I regained my footing. The weapon was useless to me. I'd never be able to draw it on Tony, even if he shot me first.

An explosion sent me scrambling for covering, losing sight of everyone as metal seemingly began falling from above.

"GET OUTTA HERE!" Steve shouted.

Weaving around twisted metal and broken boulders of concrete, I reached for Bucky's arm, dragging him along behind me. We skidded into a tower, Bucky slamming a hand against a large button to begin opening the rooftop and reveal his plan of escape.

"Go!" I pushed him forward, trailing behind as he jumped and climbed his way towards the top of the tower. My body moved automatically, the muscles burning from the strenuous exercise, but the adrenaline blocked the pain enough for me to maneuver.

Bucky reached the top first, glancing back down at me. "Give me your hand!"

A blast rippled overhead as I reached for him, sending Bucky scrambling as the roof dismantled above us, blocking our escape. My lungs pushed harder to function, breathing through the dust and smoke, choking me from the inside out.

I bit back tears as Tony flew up, raising a hand and exposing a repulsor light. "Don't!" The weapon wouldn't kill but would do some damage.

Desperation drove me to push Bucky aside, seconds before the bolt of light blasted into my body. Every muscle screamed in violent spasms. My boots slid against the metal, my view of the tower shifting as I stumbled, tumbling over the edge. Bucky threw himself forward reaching for me, our fingers finding nothing but air as I knocked against the edge of another level before the ground rose up to meet me.

A random exposed piece of rebar skewered me through the side as I landed with a grunt. The final knock to my body broke my fractured ribs, distracting me from the iron rail protruding from my stomach. I wasn't dead. I almost felt relieved until my body shuddered, the throb beginning as a pinprick immediately swelled into a severe burn paralyzing me. My hands fumbled until I regained control of my thoughts, sliding them towards the rail penetrating through the material layers of the bodysuit and protective gear, slicing through my flesh like a knife through butter. My lashes fluttered, a strangled cry releasing from the back of my throat as clutching the rail tightly, I pulled with all my fading strength the metal out.

Another thud rattled beneath me, followed by a blur of blue and red whizzing pass where I laid. A breath caught in my throat when Bucky's face appeared above me, the rail slipping from my fingers to clatter beside me.

"Gin!"

He clumsily dropped to his knees beside me, fighting back his own soreness. For a spilt second the soldier's rugged features appeared panicked, but then in a blink of the eye he roughly shoved my hand aside. He didn't take issue with ripping a pocket off his cargo pants and burrowing the material into the hole. I choked on a sob, the stinging discomfort shooting through me. Somehow, I knew this was an injury I couldn't come back from.

"Don't blame Tony… he's in pain." I reached for Bucky's hand, feeling the dampness of my blood against his flesh. "Don't hurt him, any more than we have," I murmured sadly.

"You'll be fine, I just gotta stop the bleeding."

"I'm broken. You need to help Steve–"

"I'm not leaving you, Gin!"

My gaze struggled to stay in focus, the coppery tang of blood filling my mouth. Bucky called desperately to Steve; his torment obvious as his voice cracked. He slapped my cheek, jolting me into keeping alert for a little while longer.

"C'mon, sweetheart. Open those pretty brown eyes for me."

"Bucky," I whispered using what strength I could muster to raise my free hand to his face, fingers brushing against his dark stubble caked in blood, dirt and sweat.

"Hold still, we'll get you patched up."

"No time… you have to help Steve and get away," I forced myself to smile, not wanting his last image of me to be a blubbering mess. "I'll be okay."

Bucky swallowed hard, keeping our clasped hands against my wound. "We've got a life to live, remember?"

Bucky shifted his face against my hand, his lips brushing against the skin before it dropped from his face leaving a trail of blood. My eyelids fluttered with the small exhale of air parting my lips and then I felt nothing. Bucky's face faded into darkness.

* * *

 _REVIEWS ALWAYS WELCOMED._


	40. Family Tradition

**CHAPTER FOURTY – Family Tradition**

Whiskey lingered on Bucky's breath, hot and wanting. An uncomfortable truth burned in his gaze, sending an unholy tremor along my spine as I realized what was to come. The barriers I'd thrown up since waking in Wakanda crumbled as Bucky stood before me in plain black sweats and white tank top – though missing the bionic arm, he was still terrifyingly sure he knew every inch of my wounded soul.

"Don't fight me on this," he begged but was sure of his intent, walking towards me as I backed up.

"This is your choice; it's got nothing to do with me." My hips banged into the edge of the couch, halting any further chance of escaping an uncomfortable conversation.

"Bullshit."

Another shiver rocked my spine as he called me out. There was no anger in his tone, just his determination knocking down my stubborn walls. No words would've explained why I kept rolling out every excuse in the world to keep distance between us. Bitter were my thoughts since Siberia. I'd found peace on my deathbed, finally satisfied my cursed life was ending as it should've done when Johann Schmidt decided to use me as his guinea pig. But T'Challa who'd tracked us to the abandoned base, used Wakandan tech to stabilize me long enough to transport me to his home country and save my life.

"We've been fighting our way back to each other for years, and now we're here… what? You don't want me now?"

"It's not that –"

"Then what?" He pushed invading my personal space. "Why are you avoiding me? And don't use Stark or Michael as an excuse!"

"I don't use them as an excuse." I pushed my way pass him, barely getting breathing space between us before his fingers encircled my arm, keeping me close.

"You always have an excuse!" he bit back, anger invading his usual pleasantness and revealing how much my absence was hurting him.

The pinch of his fingers digging into my flesh barely registered as the torment rolling across his handsome face sent me over the edge.

"You should've let me die!"

His grasp released my arm like he'd received an electric shock.

"I was okay with dying if it meant you got away. I knew you'd be okay with Steve, and Michael has his own life… I was ready to die!"

"Don't say that," he shook his head, disbelief and pain tearing through him as much as it did me to finally admit the thoughts swirling in my head.

"You wanted the truth," I mumbled.

He turned his back on me, walking to the kitchen to pour himself another whiskey. Tension knotted his shoulder muscles as he sculled the large whiskey in a mouthful, wistful he couldn't get drunk.

"You'd still be going through all this without me. T'Challa's people are probably the only ones who can find a way to remove HYDRA's influence. You're safe here."

"Yeah?" he scoffed glancing back at me. "That's a real comfort, Gin, you die, and I just move on."

"I had too."

"Don't play the martyr, doesn't suit you."

"Ditto." I fired back, not reaching the same level as contempt as he had.

"You still don't get it, do you?" His shoulders lowered, his entire posture exhaling the emotions dragging him down. "You never did… as much as you fight for me, I fight for you."

I uncomfortably swallowed through the lump in my throat.

"I fought when you didn't wanna admit you were sweet on me. I fought when those Nazi bastards took you. I fought when you didn't know me… I fought when I got ordered to kill you. I fought through the pain and guilt to hold onto you." He walked back towards me, hands rising to cup my face, thumbs brushing over my warm cheeks.

"Losing you would've been worse than everything HYDRA put me through," he admitted huskily. "There's no me without you."

Leaning into him I reached up to kiss him, his lips curving as his arms lowered, enfolding my body.

"Does this mean I win this fight?"

"Shut up and kiss me, Barnes." I tangled my hands in his hair, closing the intimate space between us.

-x-

"You don't have to rush into this, Michael."

My son pulled on a black suit jacket, shooting me a smile. Afternoon sunlight streamed through the vast window behind him, warming the apartment me and Bucky called home in our exile.

"Bit late to back out now, mom. Besides, this was Mariko's idea to get married here. She knew I couldn't go through it without you."

"How did you find such an amazing woman?"

"I don't know, but I can't imagine my life without her," he laughed, bursting with contagious happiness. "Y'know, till I met her, I never got why you hung onto Bucky. I always thought you were just holding onto a ghost, but now I know that feeling… that love, consumes every part of you till it's like you're one person. You can't see any part of your life without them in it."

I clutched a handful of the soft, light pink chiffon dress, drawing the hem off the ground as I walked over to my son. "You look so handsome," I fixed his tie and adjusted the flower on his lapel, sniffing softly.

"Don't start crying, mom."

"I can't help it," I murmured throwing my arms around him, squeezing him tightly until he gasped for breath. "I'm so proud of you."

"You're always on my side, no matter what."

"Always, and forever." I promised cupping his face in my hands, thumbs wiping away the stray tear rolling down his cheek.

"Shit," he blushed. "Now look what you did."

"Just wait until you see Mariko." I laughed. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah, you?"

I nodded, taking his arm as we left the apartment. We ran into T'Challa down the corridor, who gave us a curt nod before stepping through a curtained doorway onto a balcony located on our floor.

"Can't believe this is happening, me… getting married." Michael reached for my hand searching for the comforting squeeze he found.

"You deserve all the happiness in the world."

"So, do you, mom, don't know why Barnes is dragging his feet, maybe I should talk to him."

"Don't you dare!" I gently shook his hand in warning. "He needs to focus on his recovery, everything else can wait a little bit longer."

"What's another seventy years, right?" His tone hummed sarcastically.

"Yes," I sighed woefully. "What's another seventy years?"

We stepped out into the warm Wakanda sunlight together. Native flowers filled the space, and a small talented Wakanda choir sung as guests from our family and Mariko's waited for the long-awaited arrival.

We stopped before the officiant and hugged again. My little boy saying goodbye before he welcomed the new path set out before him. Steve came up beside us as we parted, taking the place as Michael's best man as I went to sit beside Bucky, his hand automatically reaching for mine, tangling our fingers.

"You look stunning," Bucky murmured against my lips.

"T'Challa has some great connections."

"Yeah? Does he know how I get you out of it later?"

I choked on a laugh, "Bucky!"

He smirked placing a kiss to my cheek before settling in.

I lightly shook my head, focusing on Michael talking quietly to Steve. Nothing mattered at this point but embracing a sense of happiness I'd assumed we'd lost so long ago. Everything I wanted was within reach. Bucky was at my side, as was Steve, and my son found his own happiness away from a life I never wanted for him.

Life had a funny way of working itself out.

-x-

"You sure about this?" Steve crossed the pristine lab to where Bucky sat quietly on an examination table. Wakanda's best minds worked around us and the stasis capsule he would be returning too.

"I can't trust my own mind," he managed a genuine smile, at peace with the decision to return to the one place he'd feared. "So, until they figure out how to get this stuff outta my head, I think going back under is the best thing, for everybody."

Steve stepped aside, allowing me to stand before Bucky. He took my hand and raised it to his lips, sweetly kissing my knuckles.

"Don't go worrying 'bout me."

I forced a small smile, the action painful as I'd return to our apartment alone for the foreseeable future. I wouldn't be able to wake up to his face or bury myself in his embrace. I would only have the memory of him again. But as always, we'd fight to see each other again.

"You'll be here when I get out?"

"Of course, unless I meet a guy who can stick around." I playfully considered the thought making him laugh, the burst of joy always a balm to my wounded soul.

"Never gonna happen, sweetheart," he chuckled. "You know you can't resist me."

"So, you keep telling me." I wrapped my arms around his neck, resting my forehead against his, savoring a moment of bliss. "I love you, James Barnes."

"Love you too, sweetheart." He planted a lingering kiss on my lips, the urgency in our embrace unlike any of our last partings. Something about this time felt different – hopeful.

I reluctantly moved to Steve's side, vainly keeping a small smile on my face as Bucky slipped off the table and approached the stasis capsule. He stepped inside and laid back, exhaling a long breath as the door closed.

My hand caught Steve's, clinging to it as the glass froze over, sealing my love in time.

* * *

 _REVIEWS ALWAYS WELCOMED._


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